■■X 



i^m 



X: 






^ i: f%. 


1 '1 


4 ^ ■lU 


J.^ 1 : 


■ / fl 


b \| 




'117" 4 


rp o 1 


^"\"M 




^ 1 







7^ /O 



Class ZJCv 2y2 

Book -^ 



Cop3Ti§lit X^, 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



WATERLOO 



m 

Hi 



WATERLOO 



BY 
THOMAS E. WATSON 

Author of "The Story of France," 
'Napoleon," and "The Life of Thomas Jefferson." 




New York and Washington 

THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1908 






USHARY o! OdNfiRE«S. 
I wu CoDies iteciitvotf 

SEP . ,28 i«ua 



l i^ m iww » MH Mi i nin, ^ 



Copyright, 1908, by 
THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 



WATERLOO 



INTRODUCTORY 

The warder of the Tower has his bout with 
the citizen on the green; Sir Walter Ra- 
leigh looks on from above, and the lieuten- 
ant's wife from below and neither of the 
three — warder, lieutenant's wife, nor the 
prisoner, Sir Walter — can agree with either 
of the other two as to what took place. Inside 
the Tower three different tales are told. It is 
reasonably certain that still another version 
was given when the citizen got back to town 
and began to talk. 

How, then, can any one expect to learn 
exactly what occurred on Sunday, June i8th, 
1 8 15, in front of the village of Mont-Saint- 
Jean? Many witnesses testify, and the con- 
flict of testimony is utterly irreconcilable. 
Much of the battle was not seen by Napoleon, 
and much of it was hidden from Wellington. 
Every officer who took part in it and who af- 
terward wrote about it contributed some- 
thing to the story, but what officer could tell 
it all? 

From the day after the battle down to the 
present time, men and women have studied 



8 WATERLOO 

the field itself, have pored over dispatches, 
have devoured Memoirs, have eagerly listen- 
ened to the slightest word which anybody 
who was in possession of a fact had to say 
about Waterloo: yet a mystery hangs over 
the entire campaign. 

Did Wellington really believe that he 
fought D'Erlon's corps at Quatre Bras? He 
says so, positively, in his official report of the 
action. Yet we know that D'Erlon's corps 
did not come even within striking distance, 
at any time during the day. Full of inac- 
curacies as his account of the battle is, the 
Duke would never correct the statement ; nor 
could he ever be persuaded to give any other. 
In fact, whenever the subject was mentioned 
he grew testy; and curtly referred the ques- 
tioner to his official report. 

On the Prussian side, there was a current 
of intense feeling against Wellington; but 
there were such powerful motives for silence 
that the truth crept out slowly, and at long 
intervals. At first, Waterloo was claimed to 
be an English victory. Wellington led the 
way in this by his slighting reference to *'the 
flank movement of Biilow." No one would 
gather from the Duke's report that 16,000 
of the French troops, during the afternoon 



WATERLOO 9 

of the 1 8th, had been fighting desperately, 
for several hours to hold the Prussians 
In check. No one could possibly learn 
from this report the fact that the French did 
not give way on the English front until the 
cannon balls of the oncoming Prussians of 
Zelten's corps were crossing those of the Eng- 
lish batteries which swept the approaches to 
Mont-Saint-Jean. Reading Wellington's of- 
ficial report of the battle, one would believe 
that the Prussians arrived after the fight was 
won — that they had nothing to do but chase 
the defeated. Only by degrees did the world 
learn that Wellington entirely disregarded 
the pledge he had given Bliicher at the con- 
ference in May; that he wrote Bliicher a let- 
ter on the morning of June 1 6th that was full 
of deception; left his troops widely scattered 
when the enemy was upon him; gave 
orders which his lieutenants had the nerve 
and the wisdom to violate, and was saved 
from annihilation at the very opening of 
the campaign by the incredible mistakes 
of Napoleon's officers and the heroic gal- 
lantry of the Prussians. Lord Wolseley 
complacently states that Wellington was 
an English gentleman of the highest type 
and, therefore. Incapable of falsehood. Yet 



10 WATERLOO 

the Duke's official report states that on 
the 15th he ordered the concentration of his 
army at Quatre Bras; and Lord Wolseley 
demonstrates that the statement was untrue. 
It was on NIvelles that a partial concentra- 
tion was ordered, and had the orders been 
obeyed the campaign would have been 
wrecked. 

Only of late years has It been perfectly 
clear that at half-past one o'clock In the af- 
ternoon of June 1 8th Napoleon had to di- 
vide his army, and to withhold the corps of 
Lobau which had been ordered to support the 
great charge of D'Erlon and Ney. Suppose 
this corps of fresh men had been thrown 
against the English line when It had already 
been well-nigh broken. At the time the pre- 
mature cavalry charges were being made, and 
the English, in squares, were suffering so ter- 
ribly from the French skirmishers and artil- 
lery, suppose 16,000 men whom Napoleon 
had sent to drive the Prussians back from 
Plancenoit, where they threatened his rear, 
had been in hand to clinch the cavalry 
charges ! How could the English have pre- 
vented these fresh troops from pouring 
through the gap In their line behind La Haye- 
Salnte ? 



WATERLOO II 

Only of late years has it been generally 
known that It was the arrival of Zeiten's 
Prussians on his left that released the troops 
with which Wellington filled this break in 
his line. 

It was only when the Prussians of Zeiten's 
corps, breaking through to the right of the 
French who were attacking the English and 
to the left of the French who were withstand- 
ing Bliicher, came thundering on their flank 
that the French army cried '^Treachery! 
Treachery F^ and dissolved in universal dis- 
may. 

As to Napoleon, whenever he talked of 
Waterloo he either confined himself to de- 
spairing ejaculations or involved himself in 
contradictions. He blamed himself for not 
having reconnoitered Wellington's position; 
he admitted that he had not had a good view 
of the field; he confessed that he had made 
a mistake in changing his plan of assailing the 
English right ; he denied giving the order for 
the heavy cavalry to charge, although this 
order had been carried by his own aide-de- 
camp. Count Flahaut — the father of one or 
two of Hortense's queerly mixed brood of 
children; and he severely blamed D'Erlon, 
Ney and Grouchy. 



12 WATERLOO 

A curious evidence of the difficulty of learn- 
ing the truth about Waterloo is to be found in 
Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables." Describ- 
ing the struggle for Hougoumont, he speaks 
of the fight in the chapel. He represents the 
sacred building as having gone through all 
the horrors of war, having been splashed with 
blood, having been torn by shot and shell, and 
having been ravaged by fire. All this seems 
probable enough, and yet the English au- 
thoress of "Waterloo Days" visited the bat- 
tlefield a few hours after the fight and 
she makes particular mention of this same 
chapel; and she declares that it "stood unin- 
jured" ! Listen to this lady — Charlotte 
Eaton: "No shot or shell had penetrated its 
sacred walls; and no sacrilegious hand had 
dared to violate its humble altar, which was 
still adorned with its ancient ornaments and 
its customary care." This is quite different 
from Hugo's "Soldiers massacred each other 
in the chapel." 

After Hugo's famous description of Wa- 
terloo appeared, all the world talked of "the 
old road of Ohain" which had, the novelist 
declared, been the pitfall and the tomb of 
the French cavalry. Painters caught up the 
theme, and the legend lives on imperishable 



WATERLOO 13 

canvas. But now history discards the story. 
The road from Ohain to Braine I'Alleud 
does become a hollow way, between steep 
banks, for about 400 yards; but the French 
were aware of the fact, and the cavalry did 
not charge across the trench. The charges 
passed over the road where it was on a level 
with the plain. It is true, however, that in 
the bewildering movements incident to charge 
and countercharge, a small body of French 
cavalry came upon this "hollow way," 
walked their horses down the bank, got upon 
the road, and were about to ride up the other 
bank to get at the English, when the English 
cavalry charged the road, making it impos- 
sible for the French to mount the bank. They 
then rode up "the hollow way," — hacked at 
by the English above, — until they reached the 
level ground, when they retired into the open 
field to reform. 

There has been much controversy as to 
whether the Duke of Wellington rode over 
to Bliicher's camp on the night of the 17th. 
There is now conclusive evidence that no such 
visit was made. 

In Archibald Forbes's "Camps, Quarters 
and Casual Places," published in 1896, we 
find: "Quite recently there have been found 



14 WATERLOO 

and are now in the possession of the Rev. 
Frederick Gurney, the grandson of the late 
Sir John Gurney, the notes of a 'conversation 
with the Duke of Wellington and Baron Gur- 
ney and Mr. Justice Williams, Judges on Cir- 
cuit, at Strathfieldsaye House, on 24th Feb- 
ruary, 1837.' The annotator was Baron 
Gurney, to the following effect: 'The con- 
versation had been commenced by my inquir- 
ing of him (the Duke) whether a story 
which I had heard was true of his having 
ridden over to Bliicher on the night before 
the battle of Waterloo, and returned on the 
same horse. He said, "No, that was not so. 
I did not see Bliicher on the day before Wa- 
terloo. I saw him the day before, on the day 
of Quatre Bras. I saw him after Waterloo, 
and he kissed me. He embraced me on horse- 
back. I had communicated with him the day 
before Waterloo.'* The rest of the conver- 
sation made no further reference to the topic 
of the ride to Wavre.' " 

In Houssaye's "18 15" the statement is 
made that the French troops did not receive 
their rations on the night of the 17th until 
after midnight, or even later. 

The truth seems to be that some of the 
troops got nothing at all to eat. They went 



WATERLOO 15 

into the fight on empty stomachs^ — stimulated 
by a drink of brandy. The enemy, of course, 
suffered no such disadvantage, for ample 
supplies came from Brussels. Again, the 
English had camp-fires to keep themselves 
warm and to dry their clothing; the French 
had no fires, and went into action chilled, and 
in wet clothing. 

To understand the physical disadvantage 
against which the French had to struggle, we 
should remember that they had to charge up 
hill over miry ground. The English were 
stationary on the crest, excepting when they 
charged, and then they charged down hill. 
Those who have walked over a ploughed 
field, or who have galloped a horse up a miry 
slope, will know how to appreciate the im- 
mense difficulties under which the French la- 
bored. 



WATERLOO 



CHAPTER I 

In 1 8 15 the Emperor was no longer a 
lean, sinewy, tireless, eternally vigilant hu- 
man tiger — ^the Napoleon of Rivoli and 
Marengo. He was no longer the consum- 
mate General-in-Chief of Austerlitz and Wa- 
gram. The mysterious lethargy which had 
overwhelmed him at the critical hour of Bo- 
rodino, when he withheld the order for the 
Old Guard to charge and convert the Russian 
defeat into a decisive disaster, had been the 
first visit of the Evil Genius which was to 
come again. The strange loss of the power 
to decide between two totally different lines 
of action, which, at the Chateau Diiben had 
kept him idle two days, lolling on a sofa, or 
sitting at his writing-table tracing on the pa- 
per big school-boy letters, was to become a 
recurrent calamity, puzzling all who knew 
him, and paralyzing the action of his lieuten- 
ants in the most critical emergencies. 



1 8 WATERLOO 

At Leipsic the reins had fallen from his 
hands; only one permanent bridge over the 
deep river in his rear had been provided to let 
him out of the death trap; and when the 
strong currents of the rout tore through the 
frantic city, the great Napoleon drifted with 
the furious tide, whistling vacantly. 

The same unexplainable eclipse of genius, 
which General E. P. Alexander described as 
occurring to Stonewall Jackson, in the Mal- 
vern Hill movements of our Civil War, 
happened to the French Emperor, time and 
again, after that first collapse at Borodino. 

In Spain he ordered a madly reckless 
charge of his Polish Light Cavalry against 
the heights of Sommo Sierra, where the 
Spanish army was entrenched and where the 
position easily admitted of successful flanking, 
got his best troops wastefully butchered — 
and could not afterward remember who gave 
the order to charge ! 

In Dresden, in 1 8 13, he had won a brilliant 
victory which needed only to be ruthlessly 
pushed; and he was pushing it with all his 
tremendous driving power when, in the twin- 
kle of an eye, his Evil Genius descended upon 
him, took his strength away, held him in in- 
visible but inexorable bonds; — and when the 



WATERLOO 19 

spell passed, the fruits of the glorious triumph 
were all gone, and Despair had thrown its 
baleful shadow athwart every possible line of 
action. 

The mighty Emperor, in years gone by, 
had overdrawn his account at the bank of 
Nature, and his drafts were now coming back 
on him, protested. He who had once slept 
too little, now slept too much. Often In the 
earlier campaigns he had abstained from eat- 
ing; now he over-ate. The reckless expo- 
sures and the intensely sustained labor of six- 
teen hours out of the twenty-four were taking 
their revenge. The corpulent Napoleon now 
loved his ease, was soon fatigued, spent hours 
In the tepid bath, and slept away the early 
morning when every advance of the sunbeam 
meant lost ground to the eagles of France. 

Talkative, when he had once been reticent; 
undecided, where he had been resolute; care- 
less, where he had been Indefatigable and 
cautious; despondent, where he had been 
serenely confident, the Emperor who had 
sprung with hawk-like determination upon the 
plotting Bourbons, had clutched their unsus- 
pecting Due D'Enghlen, dragged him to 
Paris In the night, shot him, and buried him 
in a ditch before day — this Emperor did 



20 WATERLOO 

not have enough of that terrific energy left 
to even fling the traitors, Fouche and Talley- 
rand, into prison. 

He knew that these two men were at their 
old tricks again, but he could not act. Look- 
ing at Fouche calmly, Napoleon said, "I 
ought to have you shot." Nothing could 
prove more conclusively that the Napoleon of 
old no longer lived. Had he been the man 
of Brumaire, or Lodi, or Jena, he would have 
shot the traitor first, and talked about it after- 
ward. 

In the sere and yellow leaf of life, but still 
Titanic in his proportions, the Emperor, once 
the charity-boy of Brienne, — he who fought 
the whole school when the young aristocrats 
of France made fun of his shabby clothes and 
Corsican birth, — stood at bay against a world 
in arms. 

Feudalism against him: Caste against 
him : Hereditary Aristocracy against him : 
The Divine Right of Kings against him; and 
above all, the ignorance, the prejudice, and 
the unwillingness of mankind to he forced out 
of old ruts were against him. Against him 
was a Church hierarchy which panted for 
ancient powers and immunities and wealth. 
Against him were the Privileged Few of every 



WATERLOO 21 

government on earth — those who feast on 
Class legislation and resent interruption. 
Against him were all those who denied the 
right of a nation to choose its own ruler, those 
who hated the dogma that the true foundation 
to government is the consent of the governed. 
To meet so powerful a combination, the one 
sure resource was that from which Napoleon 
shrank in horror — an appeal to the Jacobins, 
the Sansculottes, the fierce men of the masses 
who hated the priest and the aristocrat. . 

'^When one has had misfortunes one no 
longer has the confidence which is necessary 
to success J' 

With this mournful remark, made in pri- 
vate to that noble old Revolutionary patriot, 
Carnot, the Emperor made ready to leave 
Paris to join his army. 

In gathering up the scattered remnants of 
his former hosts Napoleon had worked at a 
vast disadvantage. Time and money were 
what he needed most. He had not enough 
of either. 

His escape from Elba had found the Con- 
gress of Vienna still in session. The Kings 
who had pulled him off his throne, in 1814, 
were all in Vienna, together. The armies 
which had outnumbered him and crushed him, 



22 WATERLOO 

were still In battle array. The traitors who 
had plotted his overthrow, the traitors who 
had deserted him on the field of battle — the 
Talleyrands, on the one hand, and the Mar- 
monts on the other — were all in lusty life, 
ready to make sure of their guilty heads by 
bringing the wounded colossus down. 

In the midst of the splendid festivities in 
Vienna; in the midst of the pomps and 
parades, the jubilations over the fall of the 
one Throned Democrat of the world; in the 
midst of the congratulations, the gayeties, the 
feasting and dancing, the illuminations and 
the joyous music, there comes the clap of 
thunder from the clear sky. 

Napoleon has left Elba! 

In Dumas's story, "Twenty Years After," 
do you remember that thrilling chapter in 
which the news is brought to the immortal 
Three that their deadly foe, Mordaunt, whom 
they supposed they had killed, is alive? Do 
you remember how Athos, the loftiest man of 
the Three, rose and took down his sword, 
which he had momentarily hung upon the 
wall, gravely buckling it around himf A 
desperate man is on his track ; his sword must 
be at his hand. 

So it was with the European Kings, at 



WATERLOO 23 

Vienna. They had banded themselves to- 
gether to break the scepter of the Crowned 
Democrat whose Civil Code, with its glorious 
maxims, all tending to Justice and to Equality 
before the lam, was a deadly menace to the 
existence of Divine Right and Special Privi- 
lege. They had deceived their own peoples 
with lies about Napoleon, and with promises 
of reforms which they never meant to 
keep; they had deluged France with a flood 
of foreign invasion that swept all before 
it; they had bought the Fouches and 
Talleyrands; they had seduced the Murats 
and Bernadottes and Moreaus and Mar- 
monts; they had captured Napoleon's wife 
and child, and had deafened their ears 
and hardened their hearts to the appeals 
of the husband and father. They had 
stricken the sword out of his hand, the 
crown off his head. They thought that they 
had made an end of this "Disturber of the 
Public Peace" — this enthroned Democrat, 
whose levelling watchword of ^'All careers 
open to talent'^ they hated as a tyrant hates 
a rebel, as despotism hates liberty. And now 
Napoleon was in France again. No wonder 
that consternation seized Vienna. 

^^Look to yourself; the lion is looseT was 



24 WATERLOO 

the warning cry which a King of France had 
sounded in the ears of a false and affrighted 
King of England, ages before. If Richard 
Coeur de Lion's escape from the Castle of 
Diirrenstein turned to water the blood of 
Philip and John, the sensation in Europe was 
as nothing compared to that created by 
Napoleon's escape from Elba. 

Back to France! In those three words 
burns the purpose of the European Kings. 
The Russian army is far advanced on its 
homeward march, but it must be halted; the 
tired feet of the soldiers must not rest an hour. 
Back to France! The Austrian legions are 
at home, ready to enjoy the well-earned rest. 
Must the bugles call once more? — once more 
the streets and the lanes thrill at the beat of 
the drums? Back to France! The Prussian 
and the British armies have not had time to 
start home. They are in cantonments, in the 
Low Countries, close to the frontier of 
France. Old Bliicher — '^that drunken hussar 
who has given me as much trouble as any- 
body'' as Napoleon used to say — is already 
in the saddle, with a splendid staff which plans 
his campaigns for him. 

The Duke of Wellington, the hero of the 
Congress of Vienna, must now hasten to 



WATERLOO 25 

Brussels to take command of his army. All 
the world beheves that Napoleon will force 
the fighting, and that he will strike the enemy 
nearest him, there on the Belgian frontier. 

Thus, in 18 15, as the month of June lav- 
ishes its splendors on the earth, the eyes of all 
Christendom are fastened upon Napoleon 
Bonaparte. It is hardly too much to say that 
the world stands still, this fateful month, to 
watch the unequal fight — Napoleon against 
the Kings ! 

How hard it is to understand the delusion 
under which some of the best men of the 
time labored! With eyes to see, why were 
they so blind? With ears to hear, why were 
they so deaf? 

Grattan! — why did your electric oratory 
smite with its lightnings this great enemy 
of tyranny, when Ireland, your own home, 
was bleeding under the remorseless cruelty of 
the very system which Napoleon had strug- 
gled to tear down ? La Fayette ! — why were 
you throwing stumbling blocks in this big 
man's way, fettering him with shackles and 
cords, when your French Samson needed the 
uttermost length of his locks? 

Why was it that every Liberal in Europe 
could not realize as Carnot did, — he of the 



26 WATERLOO 

Great Committee which piloted France 
through the storm of the Revolution! — that 
in Napoleon's fate, at that time, was bound 
up the best interests of the human race? 

Behind the confederated Kings lurked the 
Ancient Regime. It panted for life. It 
wanted to re-establish the blessed order of 
things in which the Few, booted and spurred, 
put into governmental form their modest 
claim to the privilege of riding the Many. 
It wanted to stamp out the revolutionary- 
principles which had been lifting the masses, 
and lowering the monstrous pretensions of the 
classes. 

Had not Metternich declared, "There can 
be no peace with such principles"? Had not 
the restored Bourbons of 1814 proved to an 
astonished world that they had learned noth- 
ing, and forgotten nothing? Had they not 
set about annihilating the glorious work of 
reform which had cost France so much — so 
much in consecrated toil, so much in well-spent 
treasure, so much in patriotic sacrifice, so 
much in heroic blood? Had they not done 
their level best, in 18 14, to blow the trump of 
resurrection for every abuse, every wrong 
which France had buried amid the rejoicings 
of the Progressives all over the world? 



WATERLOO 27 

What was the "Revolution of July, 1848," 
but the final triumph of Napoleon Bonaparte? 
It was that and nothing more. Had France 
been true to herself in 1 8 1 5 there would have 
been no Bourbon Charles the Tenth; there 
would have been no Bourbon Louis Phihppe ; 
there would have been no occasion for the 
long postponement of the supremacy of the 
Revolutionary Principles. 

'^JVith such principles there can he no 
peacel^ said Metternich, the favorite minister 
of the Confederated Kings ; and what La Fay- 
ette ought to have known, and Grattan ought 
to have known, and the Progressives every- 
where ought to have known, was that the war 
of the allied Kings was against those demo- 
cratic principles. 

Had Napoleon been willing to be just a 
king as they were, there would have been for 
him no Waterloo. 

^'Emperor, Consul, Soldier! — I owe every- 
thing to the people!" — declared Napoleon, 
throwing down the gauntlet of duel-to-the- 
death at the feet of Legitimacy, Divine Right 
and Absolutism. 

No wonder the crafty Metternich, who 
guided the policies of hereditary kings, 



2 8 WATERLOO 

snatched up the glove and said, ^With such 
principles there can he no peace!^ 

In America the masses of the people sym- 
pathized with the French Emperor, and hoped 
that he would win. At the Hermitage, in 
Tennessee, the dauntless warrior who had re- 
cently whipped the flower of Wellington's 
army at New Orleans, ardently hoped that 
Napoleon would win. 

In Great Britain tens of thousands of the 
followers of Fox hoped that the right of the 
French to select their own rulers would be 
vindicated. Throughout Continental Europe 
a powerful minority yearned for the system of 
the Code Napoleon, and secretly prayed for 
the great Law-giver's success. 

Byron's friend, Hobhouse, wrote June 12, 
1 8 15: "Regarding Napoleon and his war- 
riors as the partisans of the cause of peoples 
against the Conspiracy of Kings, I cannot 
help wishing that the French may meet with 
as much success as will not compromise the 
military character of my own countrymen. 
As an Englishman, I will not be a witness of 
their triumphs; as a lover of liberty,. I would 
not be a spectator of their reverses. I leave 
Paris to-morrow." 

Wherever men understood the tremendous 



WATERLOO 29 

issues that were about to be fought out ; wher- 
ever there was an intelligent comprehension 
of the consequences that were inevitably con- 
nected with the triumph of the Allied Kings, 
there was intense longing for the triumph of 
the French. 

The French masses eagerly besought the 
Emperor to give them arms — but he shrank 
from the menace of Communism, even as he 
had done when he refused to arm the Russian 
serf against his lord. 

In the hours of trial, three of Napoleon's 
brothers had drawn to him again. They had 
been much to blame for his downfall. Joseph 
had abandoned Paris in 18 14, when there was 
no urgent necessity for it, and when Napoleon 
was flying toward it, on horseback, at head- 
long speed. Lucien had been wrong-headed, 
turbulent, making trouble at Rome and else- 
where. Jerome's management in Westphalia 
had Incensed and disgusted Germany. As to 
Louis, the fourth brother, that impossible 
dolt and ingrate did not show his face, but re- 
tired into Switzerland. He was the younger 
brother with whom Napoleon had shared his 
slender pay when lieutenant, and who had 
lived with the elder brother and been taught 



30 WATERLOO 

by him, and in every way treated by him as a 
father treats a son. 

As to , Madame Mere, the heroic old 
mother, she had refused to come to Paris to 
take part in the gorgeous ceremonial of Napo- 
leon's Coronation ; she stayed away, at Rome, 
where Lucien Bonaparte, in temporary dis- 
grace, drew the maternal sympathy to the less 
fortunate son. No, she would not go to 
Napoleon in 1800, when all Europe was at 
his feet, and he was the King of Kings. She 
stayed at Rome with Lucien. But when the 
awful reverses came, when the scepters were 
broken in the hands of the Bonapartes, when 
Napoleon was prostrate and outlawed, 
Madame Letitia, — Madame Mere, — remem- 
bered only that he was her son. Josephine, 
frail at first, but at last loyal and loving, could 
not go to Elba; she was dead. Maria 
Louise, the Austrian wife, frail as well as 
false, would not go to Elba ; she had already 
turned her lewd eyes toward the gallant Neip- 
perg. But Madame Mere could go to Elba, 
and she went. And when Napoleon left for 
France, she soon followed. So, she is with 
him now, heart and soul. For the day is dark 
and dreary. The somber clouds hang low. 
Thunder rolls in the distance — rolls with sul- 



WATERLOO 31 

len menace and ominous reverberation. And 
because the whole world is against her son, 
Madame Mere turns from the whole world 
to him! Heroic old woman! From her 
adamantine character was drawn the strength 
which laid Europe at Napoleon's feet. 

In the "Harrington Sketches" Is drawn a 
vivid picture of the last public occasion on 
which appeared together the most remarkable 
mother and son that ever lived. It was on 
the 8th of June, four days before Napoleon 
left Paris to join his army. 

The dignitaries of the Empire were assem- 
bled In the Chamber of Deputies to take the 
oath of allegiance to the Emperor. It was a 
magnificent ceremonial. In the streets, on the 
quays and In the parks were great throngs of 
people, and among the military the enthusiasm 
was unbounded. No longer crying '^Vive 
FEmpereur/^ their shouts rolled in thunder 
tones, ^'Empereur! EmpereurF^ The roar 
of cannon shook the earth, and the air thrilled 
with the music of the bands. In the great 
and splendid Chamber of Deputies were as- 
sembled a brilliant array of the nobility of 
France — those who had been born great, 
those who had achieved greatness, and those 
who had had greatness thrust upon them. 



32 WATERLOO 

They had assembled to swear loyalty to their 
Emperor, Napoleon — and not one of those 
who were present knew better the frailty of 
such a bond of allegiance than the Emperor 
himself. And when Fouche took the oath, 
Napoleon turned his head and looked fixedly, 
calmly at the traitor. Sir Jonah Harrington 
says that Fouche faltered and flushed. But 
I doubt It. Sir Jonah Barrington says that 
he watched Napoleon's countenance. Intently 
studying Its every detail. He says that the 
Emperor sat unmoved, his face somewhat 
shaded by the ostrich plumes of his black 
Spanish hat, the size of his bust concealed by 
"the short cloak of purple velvet, embroider- 
ed with golden bees." Sir Jonah speaks of 
the "high and ungraceful shoulders," and de- 
clares that he was "by no means a majestic 
figure." "I watched his eye. It was that of 
a hawk." He then describes how this bril- 
liant glance swept from one face to another, 
throughout the assemblage, without a move- 
ment of the Emperor's head. 

Sir Jonah describes Napoleon's mother as 
"a very fine old lady, apparently about sixty, 
but looking strong and in good health, well 
looking, and possessing a cheerful, comfort- 
able countenance. In short, I liked her ap- 



WATERLOO 33 

pearance; it was plain and unassuming." 
Then Sir Jonah tells how he settled down to 
study her expression to learn her sensations 
during the splendid ceremonial. And after 
the most critical attention to the varying ex- 
pressions of the "comfortable countenance" of 
this fine old lady, Sir Jonah reaches the con- 
clusion that the emotions which move her as 
the brilliant function progresses, are just those 
of a mother frond of her son! 

"I could perceive no lofty sensations of 
gratified ambition, no towering pride, no vain 
and empty arrogance, as she viewed under- 
neath her the peers and representatives of her 
son's dominions." 

What emotion was it, then, that filled her 
bosom on that last great day in Paris? "A 
tear occasionally moistened her cheek, but it 
evidently proceeded from a happy rather than 
a painful feeling — it was the tear of parental 
ecstasy." 

After Napoleon had been caged at St. 
Helena, and was being denied comforts that 
had become necessary to him, his mother 
was one of those who supplied the captive 
with funds. Some one remonstrated with 
her, telling her that she would reduce herself 
3 



34 WATERLOO 

to poverty, and that she would be destitute in 
her old age. The heroic old Corsican ans- 
wered, "What does it matter? When_ I 
shall have nothing more, I will take my stick 
and go about begging alms for Napoleon's 
mother.'^ 



CHAPTER II 

It was half-past three on the morning of 
June 1 2th when Napoleon entered his car- 
riage and set out for the Belgian frontier. 
On the 13th he was at Avesnes, on the 14th at 
Beaumont. One who was near the imperial 
carriage, on its rapid course from Paris, states 
that the Emperor was often asleep during the 
day ; and that he declared that he was utterly 
worn out by his three months' toil. Little 
wonder. A man who had gone through the 
tremendous ordeal which Napoleon had 
passed since his return from Elba — an ordeal 
which taxed soul, mind, and body — was for- 
tunate in being left with any strength at all. 
His actual hours of labor had been an average 
of fifteen per day, to say nothing of the anxie- 
ties, the discouragements, and the humiliations 
which made such enormous demands upon his 
fortitude, his patience, his tact, his powers of 
self-control. 

Asked at St. Helena what had been the 
happiest period of his life. Napoleon 
answered, "The progress from Cannes to 
Paris." 



36 WATERLOO 

But however elated he may have been dur- 
ing that bloodless re-conquest of an empire, 
the illusion that all France rejoiced in his re- 
turn soon passed away. The indifference of 
Paris chilled him. The absence of many a 
companion-in-arms who had fought under his 
eagles was depressing. The knowledge that 
he would have to accept fettering conditions, 
and the services of men who denounced him 
the year before, mortified him. To Count 
Mole he declared that had he known how 
many concessions he would have to make, he 
would never have left Elba. 

These were concessions to those who were 
called Republicans, and who were dreaming 
of popular self-government — for which Na- 
poleon did not believe that France was pre- 
pared. Having become an Emperor, he was 
naturally opposed to a republic. Besides, a 
man of his vast superiority over other men 
naturally believes that he can achieve the best 
results when given a free hand. With pathet- 
ic earnestness he had appealed to the Legisla- 
tive to help him save France from her 
enemies, reminding them of the decadent 
Roman senate which had wrangled over vain 
abstractions while the battering-rams of the 
barbarians thundered against the walls. To 



WATERLOO 37 

no purpose. Until his power had been fully 
re-established by victory over the Allies, the 
Legislative would remain factious and ob- 
structive ; should the Allies triumph, the Leg- 
islative would be ready to renounce him, as 
in 1 8 14. 

And where were his old comrades ? Where 
were those who had grown famous under his 
flag, made great by his lessons, rich and pow- 
erful by his munificence? 

Lannes had fallen, during the awful days ^ 
of Wagram. Duroc had been disembowelled 
by a cannon ball, in one of the bloody strug- 
gles of i^i^W Junot had killed himself in a ^ 
fit of madness. LaSalle had thrown away his / 
life, on the Danube, in a needless cavalry 
charge. The gallant Poniatowski, of the 
royal house of Poland, had gone to a watery 
grave in the Elster, after the Titanic struggle ^ 
at Leipsic. Bessieres, Commander of the Old 
Guard, who had led the great cavalry charges 
at Eckmuhl and at Wagram, had met a 
soldier's death, at the head of his men, at the 
battle of Lutzen. «/ Oudinot had shown inca- 
pacity during 18 14, and Napoleon would 
have no more to do with him. Souham had 
acted the traitor; and when he came to seek 
command again. Napoleon said, "What do 



38 WATERLOO 

you want of me? Can't you see that I do not 
know you any more?" Massena renewed his »/ 
allegiance to the Emperor, and sought mili- 
tary command; but he was too old and feeble 
for active service, and Napoleon disappointed 
his hopes of getting the 9th division. ^ Suchet 
was put in command of the Army of the Alps. ^/ 
Jourdan was made Governor of Besancon. '^' 
Brune also renewed his allegiance — an act 
for which the White Terror was to inflict ^ 
upon him a horrible penalty. Gouvion Saint- 
Cyr had disobeyed Napoleon's orders in 18 14, 
and had commanded his troops to resume the 
white cockade, after the 20th of March, when 
the Chamber voted Napoleon's deposition. 
The Emperor now exiled him to his castle. 
Serurier and the elder Kellerman had voted 
for deposition, but Napoleon punished neith-,^ 
er. Marshall Moncey would have been will- 
ing to take command again under the Emper- 
or, but, as he had pubhshed a violent order of 
the day against Napoleon in 18 14, he was not 
given a military appointment, but, like Le- 
febre, he was raised to the Chamber of Peers. 
Bernadotte sat firmly on the throne of Sweden, 
ready to renew the fight against his country- 
men, to insure the reward of his treachery — 
Norway. Marmont, in mortal terror of the 



WATERLOO 39 

vengeance which his base betrayal of Paris de- 
served, had fled with the Bourbons across the 
Rhine. Augereau had offered his services, 
but he was no longer the Augereau of Casti- 
glione, and the Emperor could not overlook 
the personal insult to which the recreant Mar- 
shal had subjected him on the high-road, 
while on his way to Elba. Macdonald, who 
had led the great charge against the Austrian 
center at Wagram, had taken service under 
the Bourbons, and refused to serve Napoleon 
again. Mortier was ready for the final cam- 
paign and joined the army, but, falling sick, 
sold his chargers to Ney and took no part in 
the fighting of the Hundred Days. Berthier, ^ 
the favorite of his chief, the bosom friend, the 
constant companion; Berthier, of whom Na- 
poleon was so fond that he petted him like a 
spoilt child and would not dine in his tent until 
Berthier came to share the meal — Berthier 
had put on the King's uniform, accepted high 
position in his household, and fled the country 
upon the Emperor's return. At the castle of 
Bamberg, in Bavaria, he saw the Russians 
pouring by on their march to France. Over- 
come by the miseries of his situation, the re- 
morseful traitor threw himself from an upper 
window and died on the pavement below. 



40 WATERLOO 

Where was Muratf The most brilliant 
cavalry officer that the world ever saw had 
offered his sword to Napoleon, and had been 
spurned. God! what a mistake. The Em- 
peror, who had retained Fouche, and given a 
command to Bourmont, might well have 
trusted his own brother-in-law, who had every- 
thing to gain by a victory which would re- 
store the fortunes of all the Napoleonic con- 
nection. But Murat had appeared in arms 
against France, and this Napoleon would not 
forgive. Besides, he had attacked the Aus- 
trians, with whose Emperor there is reason to 
believe that Napoleon had come to an under- 
standing before leaving Elba. Murat's in- 
sane conduct not only brought ruin upon him- 
self, but destroyed whatever chance Napoleon 
had to detach Austria from the Alliance. So 
it was that Murat was in concealment at 
Toulon while the battle raged at Waterloo. 

Greatest of Napoleon's Marshals was Da- 
vout, the victor of Auerstadt — a greater feat 
of arms than Napoleon's own triumph at 
Jena on the same day But he was wasted 
during the Hundred Days. He begged hard 
for a command, but the Emperor chose to 
have him remain in Paris, Minister of War, 
and thus the great soldier who might have 



WATERLOO 41 

given such a different account of the Prussians, 
had he instead of Grouchy been sent after 
them, sat useless in the office in Paris, while 
the cannon roared at Fluerus, at Ligny, at 
Quatre Bras, at Wavre, at La Belle Alliance. 
Souk was a commander of ability, and he was 
loyal and full of zeal; but he had long held 
independent command, had practically no ex- 
perience as a staff-officer; and yet he applied 
for and was given the position of Chief of 
Staff. This unfortunate choice proved to be 
one of the principal causes of the disaster of 
the campaign 

And where was Ney? Where was Napo- 
leon's "Bravest of the brave"? — the heroic 
figure that had held the rearguard all 
through the horrors of the Retreat from Mos- 
cow ; the impatient lieutenant who had almost 
used threats of personal violence to his Em- 
peror to compel him to sign the first abdica- 
tion ; the turn-coat who had gone over to the 
Bourbons, and who had promised the King to 
bring Napoleon to Paris in an iron cage ? 

The torrent which was bearing the exile 
back to his throne proved too strong for Ney; 
and when his own troops cried, ^^Vive L'Em- 
pereurf' Ney was swept off his feet. 



42 WATERLOO 

When the big-hearted, impulsive man began 
to make explanations and denials, Napoleon 
stopped him with, "Embrace me, Ney." 

Weeks afterward, when the Marshal felt 
that the Emperor must have learned about the 
iron cage threat, he was clumsy enough to 
mention the matter to Napoleon, and to claim 
that he merely made the remark to deceive the 
King as to his real design, which was to go 
over to the returning Emperor. Napoleon 
said nothing, but gave Ney one of those looks 
which made even Vandamme grow ill at ease. 

Mortified, feeling that he had blundered 
throughout, — in 1814 and in 18 15, — Ney 
withdrew to his estate. 

Only at the last moment, and then out of 
pity, did Napoleon send word to Ney that he 
might serve. The message was fatal — for it 
cost Napoleon his throne, and Ney his life. 

It was not until the 12th of June that Ney 
set out for the army, and he was so ill pre- 
pared that he made the journey to Avesnes in 
a coach, and from there to Beaumont in a 
peasant's cart. It was that evening that he 
bought from Marshal Mortier the horses he 
rode into battle. At the head of his army. 
Napoleon was cordial to his old lieutenant. 
"I am glad to see you, Ney. You will take 



WATERLOO 43 

command of ist and 2nd Army Corps. Drive 
the enemy on the Brussels road, and take pos- 
session of Quatre Bras." 

What of the composition and temper of the 
army with which the great Captain was to 
make his last campaign? 

The officers did not possess the confidence 
of the troops, and were themselves without 
confidence in the star of Napoleon. Even 
those generals who were at heart his friends 
and were ready to die by him, had little or no 
hope of success. How could it be otherwise ? 
Napoleon could not inspire others with a faith 
which he did not himself feel; and we have 
overwhelming evidence to the effect that he 
was depressed, filled with forebodings. 

It was in the troops of the rank and file that 
confidence lay. These were in a frenzy of en- 
thusiasm for their Emperor, and of hatred 
against his enemies. In their way of judging 
events, their Captain had never been defeated. 
The Russian snows had been the cause of his 
failure in 18 12, and the treachery of his Mar- 
shals had been his ruin in the Campaign of 
1 8 13 and 18 14. Nothing but treachery 
could check him now; but that there was 
treason afoot was a universal suspicion among 



44 WATERLOO 

the men of the rank and file. "Don't trust the 
Marshals," they were constantly saying; and 
even, at Waterloo a soldier ran from the 
ranks, caught the bridle rein of the white 
Arabian mare that the Emperor rode, and ex- 
claimed, "Sire, don't trust Marshal Soult! 
He betrays you !" "Be calm. Trust Mar- 
shal Soult, and trust me," was Napoleon's 
reply. Evidently here was an army that would 
strike with terrific force, but which might 
break all to pieces on the field at the slightest 
evidence of bad faith on the part of its com- 
manders. 

At the very outset, Soult's unfitness for 
his position as Chief of Staff was demon- 
strated. When orders to concentrate the 
army were flying as fast as couriers could 
bear them. Napoleon came upon the cavalry 
of Grouchy, at Laon, before that officer had 
stirred a step. He had received no orders. 
Had Napoleon been the vigilant, quickly reso- 
lute Captain of old, his Chief of Staff 
would have been dismissed at once. Like the 
leak in the dyke, such a mistake indicated the 
danger of a colossal disaster. In person, Na- 
poleon had to order Grouchy forward; and 
practically the same thing had to be done with 
the corps of Vandamme. Soult had sent 



WATERLOO 45 

marching orders to that officer hy a single 
courier, whose horse fell with him, breaking 
his leg; and the poor fellow lay there all 
night with the undelivered order. 

Both of these delays were felt throughout 
the campaign. The cavalry, had to make a 
forced march of 20 leagues and this tired the 
horses ; and In the cavalry charges of the fol- 
lowing days the mounts of the French were 
jaded, while those of the enemy were fresh. 
Vandamme's failure to get his orders caused 
the combination of the Emperor to fall short 
of what it ought to have accomplished, and 
this In turn caused other losses to the end of 
the campaign. 

Even at this late day the armies of Bliicher 
and Wellington were spread over a front line 
of 35 leagues. The base of the Prussians was 
Liege; that of the English, Brussels and 
Ghent. The point of contact of the two 
armies was the road from Charleroi to Brus- 
sels. Napoleon determined to seize this road, 
strike the Allies at the point of contact and 
drive them apart, so that he could crush each 
in detail. This done, he believed that Austria 
would withdraw from the Alliance, the Bel- 
gians rise In his favor, Italy assert her friend- 
ship for him, and all France unite against the 



46 WATERLOO 

Bourbons. If these very probable changes 
should take place, he could either conclude an 
honorable peace with Russia, Prussia, and 
Great Britain, or he could safely defy them. 

On the 14th of June the Emperor slept 
among his troops. Next morning he ad- 
dressed them in the order of the day : 

"Soldiers, to-day is the anniversary of Mar- 
engo and Friedland, which twice decided the 
fate of Europe. We were too generous after 
Austerlitz and Wagram. And now banded 
together against us, the sovereigns we left on 
their thrones conspire against the independ- 
ence and the most sacred rights of France. 
They have begun by the most iniquitous ag- 
gression. Let us march to meet them ; are we 
not the men we were then? The time has 
come for every Frenchman who loves his 
country to conquer or to die." 

The army of 124,000 men to whom those 
burning words were addressed had been swift- 
ly concentrated within cannon-shot of the 
enemy, before Bliicher or Wellington had the 
faintest idea of what had happened. While 
it was possible for the French Emperor to 
strike at once, with the crushing weight of the 
whole army, three days were necessary to 



WATERLOO 47 

Bliicher and Wellington. How did they get 
those three days? Through the blunders and 
disobedience of Napoleon's own officers. 
Contributing immensely to the same result 
was the refusal of Wellington's officers to obey 
the orders which he sent from Brussels and 
which, had they been obeyed, would have left 
Quatre Bras in the hands of the French, and 
put Napoleon in overwhelming numbers be- 
tween the scattered forces of his enemies. To 
have destroyed them would have been child's 
play for such a captain. 

On the 15th of June, Wellington wrote to 
the Czar of Russia stating his intention to 
take the offensive at the end of the month. 
As to Bliicher, that indomitable but short- 
sighted soldier was writing to his wife, "We 
shall soon enter France. We might remain 
here a year, for Bonaparte would never attack 
us." 

About the time that the wife of "Marshal 
Forwards" was reading this reassuring letter, 
the Prussian army was flying before the 
French Emperor, and old Bliicher himself, un- 
horsed and bruised almost to unconscious- 
ness, had escaped capture because of the dark- 
ness, and was being borne off the lost field of 
Ligny. 



CHAPTER III 

On the morning of June 15 th, at half-past 
three, the French army crossed the Belgian 
frontier. 

Disobeying orders, D'Erlon did not set his 
troops in motion until half-past four. Re- 
ceiving no orders, Vandamme did not move 
at all — not until the approach of Lobau's 
corps warned him that some mistake had been 
made. Gerard was ordered to start at three ; 
he did not appear at the rendezvdus until 
seven. 

To increase the ill effect which these delays 
were making upon the mind of the suspicious 
troops, General Bourmont, commander of the 
head division of the 4th Corps, went over to 
the enemy, accompanied by his staff, some 
other officers, and an escort of {ive lancers. 

This act of treachery threw the whole of 
the 4th Corps into confusion, and it became 
necessary for Gerard and General Hulot to 
harangue the troops to restore their confi- 
dence. Two hours were thus lost. Napoleon 



WATERLOO 49 

had not wished to give Bourmont a command, 
but had yielded at the urgent entreaties of 
Gerard and Labedoyere. 

To the credit of Bliicher, it must be said 
that he gave the traitor a contemptuous recep- 
tion, and spoke to his staff scornfully of the 
"cur." 

Between nine and ten o'clock on the morn- 
ing of the 15th of June the French reached 
the Sambre. At Thuin, at Ham, in the 
woods of Montigny, at the farm of La Tombe 
they had struck the Prussian outposts and 
driven them, killing, wounding and capturing 
some 500 of them. Then there was a fight 
for the bridge over the Sambre at Marchi- 
enne. 

Too much time was lost both here and at 
the bridge of Charleroi. The cavalry await- 
ed the infantry, and Vandamme, commander 
of the infantry, was four hours late. It was 
not until the Emperor himself appeared on the 
scene that the bridge was stormed. 

At the bridge of Marchienne there was a 
fight of two hours, and even after the bridge 
had been carried it required several hours for 
so many troops to pass so narrow a bridge. 

To a civilian it seems strange that no prep- 
4 



50 WATERLOO 

aration had been made, beforehand, to throw 
other bridges over this stream; equally so 
that the retreating Prussians left any bridges 
standing. 

Amid the cheers of the inhabitants Napo- 
leon entered Charleroi, a little after noon, and 
dismounted, and sat down by the side of the 
road. At this point he commanded a full 
view of the valley of the Sambre. 

The troops were on the march. As they 
passed they recognized the Emperor, and the 
wildly enthusiastic cheering of the men 
drowned the roll of the drums. Soldiers 
broke ranks to run and hug the neck of De- 
slree, the Emperor's horse. 

And so tired was Napoleon that he fell 
asleep in the chair, even as he had slept on the 
battlefield of Jena. 

From Brussels the English would come by 
the Charleroi road; from Namur the Prus- 
sians would come by the Nivelles road. 
These highways cross each other at Quatre 
Bras, hence the supreme importance of that 
position. To seize it was Napoleon's pur- 
pose, and he entrusted the task to Ney, giving 
him the order verbally and personally : 



WATERLOO 51 

''Drive the enemy on the Brussels road and 
take up your position at Quatre Bras." 

Having ordered the left wing of his army 
to Quatre Bras, the Emperor meant to post 
his right wing at Sombreff, while he, himself, 
with his reserve, should take position at Flu- 
erus, to be ready to act with the right wing or 
the left, as circumstances might dictate. 

About 10,000 Prussians were behind Gilly, 
protected In front by the little stream, Le 
Grand-Rieux. Grouchy, deceived by the 
length of the enemy's line, estimated their 
strength at 20,000, and hesitated to advance. 
"At most they are 10,000," said the Emperor, 
and he ordered Grouchy to ford the stream 
and take the Prussians in flank; Vandamme's 
division and Pajol's cavalry would attack in 
front. 

Then the Emperor left the field to hurry 
the coming of Vandamme's corps. The mo- 
ment Napoleon was gone, Grouchy and Van- 
damme began to waste time, and for two 
hours they were arranging the details of the 
movement. While they were doing so, the 
Prussians quietly walked off from the trap. 

Enraged at the conduct of his lieutenants, 
the Emperor, just returned, ordered Letort to 
charge with four squadrons of cavalry. Two 



52 WATERLOO 

battalions of Prussians were overtaken and 
cut to pieces; the others escaped into the 
woods of Solielmont. 

It was now the close of the day, and 
Grouchy wished to drive out of Fluerus the 
two battalions of Prussians which occupied it. 
These were the positive orders of the Em- 
peror, but Marshal Vandamme refused to ad- 
vance any farther, saying that his troops were 
too tired and that, at any rate, he would take 
no orders from a commandant of the cavalry. 
As Grouchy could not take Fluerus without 
the support of infantry, the village remained 
untaken, and Napoleon's plan incomplete. 

On the left wing the same failure to obey 
orders was even more marked. Instead of 
advancing upon Quatre Bras, as the Emperor 
distinctly told him to do, Ney posted three of 
his divisions at Gosselies, and tolled off noth- 
ing but the lancers and the chasseurs of the 
Guard to Quatre Bras. 

The lancers of the Guard had got in sight 
of Fresnes about half-past five in the after- 
noon. This village was occupied by a Nassau 
battalion and a battery of horse artillery. 
They were under the command of Major 
Normann, who had been left without any in- 
structions, but on hearing the sound of cannon 



WATERLOO 53 

toward Gosselles, he had at once divined the 
supreme importance of Quatre Bras, and de- 
termined to defend it desperately. Had Ney 
continued his advance with any considerable 
portion of his infantry, the Nassau battalion 
would have been crushed. As it was, the 
small force of the French which had been sent 
forward was able to drive Major Normann 
out of Fresnes and along the Brussels road. 
In fact a squadron of the French cavalry en- 
tered Quatre Bras where there were then no 
English ; but fearing to be cut off, did not at- 
tempt to hold the place. Prince Bernard, 
of Saxe-Weimar, had also acted without or- 
ders; and with the instinct of a soldier had 
taken the responsibility of moving his own 
troops to occupy this important strategical 
position. Under him were four Nassau bat- 
talions; therefore there were now 4,500 men 
with artillery to defend Quatre Bras against 
the 1,700 lancers and chasseurs which Ney 
had thrown forward. 

The sound of cannon in front caused Mar- 
shal Ney to join his vanguard. Instead of 
realizing the necessity of ordering up infantry 
supports and storming the position of the 
enemy as he could easily have done, he made 
only a few feeble charges against the Nassau 



54 WATERLOO 

Infantry, and then went back to Gosselies for 
the night. Had he continued to advance with 
even one-fourth of the troops which the Em- 
peror had given, he might have destroyed the 
entire force of Prince Bernard and of Major 
Normann before a single Englishman came 
within miles of the place. 

Nevertheless, the Emperor had substantial- 
ly gained his point. Almost without any real 
fighting, and in spite of the clumsy working 
of his great military machine, he now had 
124,000 men encamped near the point of 
junction between the allied armies, ready to 
strike either. On the night of the 15th, when, 
at Charleroi, Napoleon examined the reports 
sent in by Grouchy and Ney, he reached a con- 
clusion that was wrong, but which, fastening 
itself on his mind, could never be shaken, and 
contributed vastly to his ruin. He believed, 
judging from the direction in which the Prus- 
sians had retreated, that they were retreating 
upon Liege, their natural base of operations, 
instead of adhering to the design of so con- 
ducting their retreat as to be at all times in 
reach of the English. 

The various delays of the French, and their 
failure to advance as far as the Emperor's or- 
ders had directed, made it possible for the in- 



WATERLOO SS 

defatigable Bliicher to bring up a large part 
of his army, and instead of retreating on his 
base, — as Napoleon thought he would do, — 
Bliicher advanced to Sombreffe to give battle. 

Toward morning, in the night of the 15 th, 
the Prussians had evacuated Fluerus. 
Grouchy took possession of it, and the Emper- 
or reached it shortly before noon. Going to 
the tower of a brick mill, which stood at the 
end of Fluerus, Napoleon had the roof 
breached and a platform made, upon which he 
could stand and view the various positions of 
the enemy. 

The willingness of the Prussian commander 
to fight was partly the result of Wellington's 
diplomacy. The Englishman had been 
caught napping, and to secure time to concen- 
trate his badly scattered forces he had given 
Bliicher a written promise to support him. It 
was extremely necessary to Wellington that 
Bliicher should stand between the English 
army and the French, and fight them off, until 
the English could get themselves together. 
Besides, if Bliicher retreated upon Liege, the 
English army would be left alone before Na- 
poleon. In that event it would have to fight 
with inferior forces, or fall back on its base of 



56 WATERLOO 

operations, leaving Brussels to be occupied by 
the Emperor. 

In 1876 there was found in the Prussian 
archives the letter in which Wellington en- 
couraged his ally to make a stand. This letter 
was sent from the heights north of Fresnes, 
about two miles south of Quatre Bras, at half- 
past ten o'clock in the morning of the i6th. 
In this much-debated letter the wily English- 
man misrepresents the positions of his own 
troops, puts them some hours nearer to the 
scene of action than they really were, and as- 
sures Bliicher of their support if he will stand 
and fight. Wellington tells Bliicher that 
he will at least be able to effect such a power- 
ful diversion in his behalf that Napoleon will 
not be able to use against the Prussian more 
than a moiety of his army. 

Lord Wolseley, in his book, "The Decline 
and Fall of Napoleon," admits that Welling- 
ton's statements to Bliicher were false, but 
naively remarks, "Wellington, an English 
gentleman of the highest type, was wholly and 
absolutely incapable of anything bordering on 
untruth or deceit in dealing with his allies." 

Lord Wolseley's ingenious explanation is 
that Wellington must have been deceived "by 
his inefficient staff." 



WATERLOO 57 

Yet the undisputed record Is that Welling- 
ton himself had issued all the orders to his 
scattered troops, a few hours before, and he 
knew precisely the distance of each division 
from the field. 

To the "English gentleman of the highest 
type" it was supremely necessary that his ally 
should break the force of the French onset, 
delay its advance, and thus give himself time 
to concentrate his too-widely scattered troops. 
To Influence Bliicher he stated to him what he 
knew to be untrue, and made his ally a prom- 
ise which he hiew he could not keep. 



CHAPTER IV 

The Napoleon of the Italian campaign had 
said: "The Austrians lose battles because 
they do not know the value of fifteen 
minutes." 

Alas! Neither the Emperor nor his lieu- 
tenants now seemed to know the value of time. 

In former years the French moved for- 
ward before dawn. In this final campaign, 
upon which all was staked, they started late 
and they moved slowly, when the enemy was 
crowding into every minute the utmost that 
human energy could achieve. 

Standing upon the roof of the mill-tower. 
Napoleon could not perceive the full strength 
of Bliicher's position. To the Emperor it 
seemed that the enemy was posted opposite to 
him on a slope leading upward to a low range 
of hills with the village of Sombreff in the 
center. From the tower he could not see the 
importance of the small river Ligne, with the 
ravine formed by the broken ground and the 
stream itself. In the center of the valley was 
the village of Ligny, in which stood an old 
castle, and a church surrounded by a cemetery 



WATERLOO 59 

enclosed by brick walls. Through this village 
runs the stream of LIgne. There were several 
other villages In the valley between the two 
opposing ranges of hills. The Prussian posi- 
tion was In reality strong, with this weakness 
— the open slope revealed all the movements 
made over It, and exposed the troops to the 
cannon of the French. 

It was not till long after two o'clock that 
the French were ready to attack. Then the 
battery of the Guard fired the signal guns, 
and Vandamme dashed upon the enemy, 
while the military bands played "La victoire 
enchantant." The Prussians posted In the 
village, the cemetery, the church, the or- 
chards, the houses, fought desperately. En- 
trenched in the old castle and In the farm 
buildings, they raked the advancing French 
with a terrible fire, which littered the ground 
with the dead and wounded. Under the can- 
nonade of the French, houses burst into 
flames. The villages became a roaring hell, 
In which the maddened soldiers fought from 
house to house. In the streets, in the square, 
with a ferocity which amazed the oldest offi- 
cers. No quarter was asked or given. 

Driven over the LIgne, the Prussians lined 
the left bank, and across this brook the sol- 



6o WATERLOO 

diers shot each other, with guns only a few 
feet apart. In the houses wounded men were 
being burned to death, and their frightful 
cries rang out above the roar of battle. The 
hot day of June was made hotter by the fierce 
flames which wrapped the buildings; clouds 
hung in the heavens, and the smoke from the 
guns, dense and foul, was pierced by tongues 
of fire from the blazing houses and by the 
flashes of the guns as Prussians and French- 
men shot each other down. 

After four charges in force ; after sanguin- 
ary hand-to-hand fights for every hedge and 
wall and house; after the fiercest struggle for 
the brook, the Prussians fell back — the 
French pouring over the bridges. That 
Bliicher had failed to blow up the bridges 
was a disastrous mistake. 

But this was only the right wing of 
Bliicher's army; the center and the left wing 
were unhurt. Bliicher came down from his 
observatory, on the roof of the mill of Bussy, 
to order in person a movement on Wagnalee, 
from which the Prussians would take the 
French in flank. While the Prussians, reani- 
mated by the presence of "Old Marshal For- 
wards," sprang forward with cheers, and be- 



WATERLOO 6 I 

gan to drive the French back, Napoleon 
made ready for his master-stroke. 

Ney at Quatre Bras is in the rear of the 
Prussians. Let him merely hold in check 
whatever force of English is coming from 
Brussels, and detach D'Erlon with his 20,000 
men to fall upon the Prussian flank and rear. 
This done, 60,000 Prussians will be slaugh- 
tered or captured. 

Directly to D'Erlon flew the order to 
march to the rear of the Prussian right. Col- 
onel de Forbin-Janson, who carried the order 
to D'Erlon, was instructed to inform Ney, 
also. 

This order had been sent at two o'clock. 
It was now half-past five. At six the Em- 
peror expected to hear the thunder of D'Er- 
lon's cannon in the rear of the Prussian army. 
As soon as he should hear that he would send 
in his reserves, — hurling them at the enemy's 
center, — cut through, block its retreat on Som- 
breff, and drive it back upon the guns of Van- 
damme and D'Erlon. For the 60,000 men 
of Zeiten and PIrch there would be no es- 
cape. The Emperor was greatly elated. In 
order to annihilate Bliicher and end the war 
with a clap of thunder it was only necessary 
that Ney obey orders. So thought Na- 



62 WATERLOO 

poleon. He said to Gerard, "It is possible 
that three hours hence the fate of the war 
may be decided." To Ney himself he had 
written, "The fate of France is in your 
hands." 

With a soul full of the pride of success, 
the Emperor made his dispositions for the 
final blow. 

But what thunder-cloud is that which sud- 
denly darkens the radiant sky? 

Away off there to the left, Vandamme's 
scouts have caught sight of a column of 
twenty or thirty thousand troops who 
march as if their intention is to turn the 
French flank. An aide-de-camp sent by Van- 
damme dashes across the field to carry this 
fateful message to the Emperor. Thus, with 
hand uplifted to strike Bliicher down, he 
must not deal the blow — his own flank is ex- 
posed. It does not occur to Napoleon that 
this column on the left may be D'Erlon's 
corps, going in a wrong direction, by mistake. 
Vandamme had said they were the enemy; 
D'Erlon had no business to be there; the 
column must be Prussian or English. 

Nothing can be done until an aide-de-camp 
can ride several miles, reconnoiter, ride back 



WATERLOO 63 

and report. The grand attack is delayed 
until this can be done. 

At length the aide-de-camp returns and re- 
ports that the suspicious column is D'Erlon's 
corps. 

Filled with chagrin for not having guessed 
as much, and with rage for the precious 
hour of daylight lost, the Emperor gives the 
word, the grand attack begins. 

Black clouds have been gathering over the 
winding stream of Ligne, along whose banks 
the fighting has raged for several miles. The 
lightning now begins to flash and the thunder 
to roll, but even the voice of the storm is lost 
in the more terrible voice of battle as Na- 
poleon's batteries turn every gun on Ligny. 

The Old Guard deploys in columns of at- 
tack; cuirassiers make ready to dash for- 
ward; the drums beat the charge, and the 
splendid array moves onward amid deafening 
peals of ^'V'lve VEmpereiir!'' 

Bliicher has stripped his center to feed his 
right: he has no reserves: and the whole 
strength of Napoleon's power smites the 
Prussian center. It is swept away. As Soult 
wrote Davout: "It was like a scene on the 
stage." 

The sun is now about to go down — the 



64 WATERLOO 

storm is over — and Bliicher gets a view of the 
whole field. His army has been cut in two. 
Desperately he calls in the troops on his 
right; desperately he gallops to his squad- 
rons on the left to lead them to the charge. 
Bravely they come on in the gathering gloom 
to fling themselves against the French. In 
vain — torn by musketry and charged by the 
cuirassiers, they fall back. Blucher's horse is 
shot down and falls on his rider. 

"Nostitz, now I am lost!" cries the old 
hero to his adjutant. 

But the French dash by without noticing 
these two Prussians, and when the Prussians, 
in a countercharge, pass over the same 
ground, Blucher's horse is lifted and the old 
Marshal borne from the field. 

Night puts an end to the conflict and saves 
the Prussian army from annihilation. Had 
the attack been made when Napoleon first 
ordered, there would have been no Bliicher 
to rescue Wellington at Mont-Saint-Jean. 

The carnage of the day had been pro- 
digious. Twelve thousand Prussians and 
eighty-five hundred Frenchmen strewed the 
villages, the ravine, and the plain. At this 
cost the great Captain won his last victory. 

As he returned to Fluerus that night Na- 
poleon's heart must have been very heavy. 



WATERLOO 6s 

The fortune of France had slipped through 
his fingers. The enemy should have been de- 
stroyed. Had his orders been obeyed, 
Bliicher's army would have been swept off the 
face of the earth. As It was, Bliicher had 
simply received one of the ordinary drubbings 
to which he was so much accustomed that he 
was not even discouraged. Neither his staff 
nor his troops were demoralized. They had 
given way to an onset which they could not 
withstand; but they meant to reform, re- 
treat to another position, and fight again. 

Most of those who have written of LIgny 
and of the fatality which deprived both Ney 
and the Emperor of D'Erlon, — whose corps 
would have accomplished such decisive re- 
sults had It gone Into action at either LIgny 
or Quatre Bras,— dwell upon the Ignorance 
and presumption of the staff-officer, Col. Lau- 
rent, who took It upon himself to direct the 
march of D'Erlon's leading column upon 
LIgny when It was upon Its way to Quatre 
Bras. 

But It seems to me that had the staff-officer 
not turned D'Erlon's corps away from 
Quatre Bras and toward LIgny, the Em- 
peror's own order, sent by Forbln-Janson, 
would have brought about precisely the same 
result. 



CHAPTER V 

"There is my ugly boy, Arthur," said Lady 
Mornlngton on seeing Wellington at the 
Dublin Theater after a long absence. 

Like Alexander the Great, Charlemagne, 
Frederick the Great, Washington, Byron, 
Webster, Disraeli, and many other great 
men, Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, 
owed nothing to his mother ! 

The sentimental notion that all great men 
derive their strength from their mothers is an 
idle fancy. 

Born into the ruling caste of Great Britain, 
Arthur Wellesley was given the best oppor- 
tunities, and he improved them to the best 
advantage. In Hindustan he won military 
fame similar to that of Clive, and was finally 
sent to Portugal when the British Cabinet de- 
cided to make the Peninsula a base of opera- 
tions against Napoleon. Displeased with 
the Convention of Cintra, which his superior 
officer concluded with Junot, after the latter 
had lost the battle of Vimiera, Wellington 
quit the Continent and returned to England, 
where he served in Parliament, It required 



WATERLOO 67 

the utmost exertion of his family influence to 
again secure employment for him in the army. 

His subsequent career in Spain, where, by 
a cautious steadiness and unflinching courage, 
he won victory after victory over Napoleon's 
lieutenants, left him the military hero of the 
day when Marmont's treachery had put an 
end to the campaign of 1 8 14. 

He was at the Vienna Congress when Na- 
poleon left Elba, and the Kings turned to 
him, saying: "You must once more save Eu- 
rope." 

The Duke of Wellington, associated as he 
is with the national pride of the country, is 
England's military hero. The greatness of 
the Duke is the greatness of old England. 
He identified himself wholly with the govern- 
ment of his country, believed that it was the 
best that human wit could devise, antagon- 
ized innovations, detested reform measures, 
and had a hearty contempt for the populace. 

It is doubtful if any human being ever 
loved Wellington. His wife did not; his 
sons did not; his oflicers did not; his soldiers 
did not. Yet he had the unbounded confi- 
dence of his army, the warm admiration of 
most Englishmen, and the personal esteem of 



68 WATERLOO 

every sovereign of Europe. Like Washing- 
ton, he had few intimacies; and hke Wash- 
ington, he was exacting even in very small 
matters. 

That he should have won the title of "the 
Iron Duke" is significant. In many respects 
he was a hard man. He was never known to 
laugh. 

"Kiss me, Hardy," said the dying Nelson 
to his bosom friend. We cannot imagine any 
such tenderness of sentiment in Wellington. 

Nelson came near throwing his fame away 
for a wanton, as Marc Antony did : we could 
never imagine Wellington in love with a 
woman. He married with as little excite- 
ment as he managed a military maneuver, 
and he begat children from a stern sense of 
duty. 

He heartily favored flogging In the army, 
and he bitterly opposed penny postage. 

In his old age he was asked whether he 
found any advantage in being "great." He 
answered, "Yes, I can afford to do without 
servants. I brush my own clothes, and if I 
was strong enough I would black my own 
shoes." 

He had ridden horseback all his life, but 
had a notoriously bad seat. Often in a fox 



WATERLOO 69 

hunt he gave his horse a fall, or was thrown. 
Like Napoleon, he always shaved himself. 
He was a man of few words, never lost his 
head, and was as brave as Julius Caesar. 

It is Thackeray who relates the incident 
which illustrates how the English regarded 
the Duke in his old age. 

Two urchins, one a Londoner and the other 
not, see a soldierly figure ride by along the 
street. 

" 'That's the Duke,' says the Londoner. 

" 'The Duke?' questions the other. 

" 'Of Wellington, booby!' exclaims the 
Londoner, scornful of the ignoramus who 
did not know that when one spoke of 'the 
Duke,' Wellington alone could be meant." 



CHAPTER VI 

"There was a sound of revelry by night, 
And Belgium's capital had gathered then 
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright 
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men". 

The dance Is the harmony of motion wed- 
ded to the harmony of sound. Since men 
have loved music they have loved dancing, 
and the perfection of the dance will be a fas- 
cination until the love of music is dead in 
the souls of men. 

Herodias dances before the King, and off 
goes the head of John — a victim to the sen- 
suous poetry of motion. Nor was Herod 
the only intoxicated monarch whose imperial 
will was seduced by music and the dance. 
Ancient history is full of It — this witchery of 
voluptuous music and voluptuous motion, the 
sway of the woman of the dance. 

As far back as we can see into the dim ages 
of the past, the record Is the same. The story 
of the witchery of melodious sound and the 
rhythmical movement which brings the charm 
of music to the eye as well as to the ear, is 
traced In whatever of sculpture, of painting. 



WATERLOO 71 

of literature has been saved from the rav- 
ages of time. Graven on the stone, carved 
upon the frieze, cast In the entablature, deli- 
cately wreathed about the vase, we still see 
how the ancients loved music, and how the 
music made the dance. 

Out of the annals of the dead nations 
come the living names of their national 
dances, and It may be that the fire which 
burned In the heart of the Spartan when he 
went through the Pyrrhic dance was the same 
as that which kindled the ardor of the Red 
Man of the American tribes when he cele- 
brated his war dance. 

There was the dance of the Furies, the 
dance of the Harvest, the dance of May-day, 
the dance of the religious rite, the dance of re- 
joicing, the dance of the marriage feast, the 
dance of the funeral rite. 

In the Greek Chorus the whole city gave 
Itself to the melody of sound and the harmony 
of motion, just as the farandola of to-day is. 
In Southern France, an unlooped garland of 
music and dance drawing Into itself the entire 
community. Only the Roman refused to 
dance, and the Roman is the most unlovely 
national character in history. 

"Wine, woman, and song!" cried the rev- 



72 WATERLOO 

ellers In the dawn of time; "Wine, woman, 
and song!" shout the revellers now; and be- 
tween these flowery banks of Pleasure runs 
the steady, everlasting stream of earnest pur- 
pose, consecration to duty, and love of noble 
standards, that bears precious freight toward 
havens yet unknown. 

As Thackeray says, there never was, since 
the days of Darius, such a brilliant train of 
camp-followers as hung around Wellington's 
army in the Low Countries, in the year 1815. 

French noblesse who had fled their country, 
English lords and ladies who had crossed 
over to the Continent, diplomats connected 
with various European courts, travellers who 
had stopped at Brussels to await the issues of 
the campaign — all these crowded the city. 
With the ofllicers of the English and Belgian 
armies, this made a brilliant and distinguished 
society, and many social entertainments were 
being given. 

Owing principally to the fact that hers 
was connected with the march of the English 
army and the crowning victory of Waterloo, 
the Duchess of Richmond's ball has, histori- 
cally, obliterated every other. Lord Byron 
immortalized It In "Chllde Harold"; and 



WATERLOO 73 

after 'him came Thackeray with his masterly 
descriptions In "Vanity Fair." 

Until a comparatively recent date it has not 
been known for certain where the ball took 
place, for it was well known that it was not 
given in the house which the Duke of Rich- 
mond was temporarily occupying. 

Sir William Fraser has published a most 
interesting account of how his industrious 
search for the famous ball-room was at length 
rewarded by the discovery that the place actu- 
ally used for the dance was the store-room, or 
depot, of a carriage-builder, whose establish- 
ment joined the rear of the Duke of Rich- 
mond's palace. Instead of being a "high- 
hall" as Byron imagined, it was a low room, 
13 feet high, 54 feet broad, and 120 feet 
long. For the two hundred invited guests it 
afforded ample accommodations. 

We can assume that this storage-room for 
vehicles had been transformed with hangings 
and decorations until it presented an appear- 
ance sufficiently brilliant, and we can imagine 
the eagerness with which "the beauty and the 
chivalry" had looked forward to this night. 
We can Imagine the intrigues for tickets. We 
can imagine fair women leaning on the arms 



74 WATERLOO 

of the brave men, and the crash of music, as 
the band strikes up, and then, 

''On with the dance!" 

Yonder is the Prince of Orange, heir to 
the illustrious house which boasts such names 
as William III and William the Silent. To 
whom does the modern world owe more, — 
for freedom of conscience, of speech, of per- 
son, — than to the heroic Dutchman who 
stood, almost alone — and triumphantly! — 
against the whole power of the Spanish Em- 
pire and the Pope? From whom have we 
received a finer lesson in patriotism, and in 
desperate determination to be free, than from 
William III when, as the armies of the Grand 
Monarch came irresistibly on, sternly ordered, 
'^Cut the dykes! We^ll give Holland hack 
to the sea^ rather than become the slaves of 
France!'^ 

Over there is the Duke of Brunswick — 
whose father, in 1789, had led into France 
that ill-fated invasion which struggled with 
mud and rain and green grapes until it was 
in condition to be demoralized by the slight 
cannonade of Dumouriez and the cavalry 
charge of Kellerman — thus bringing derision 
upon its commander who had issued the fa- 



WATERLOO 75 

mous proclamation in which he threatened 
Paris with destruction. 

There is Pozzo di Borgo, the Corsican, 
the boyhood acquaintance of Napoleon. 
They had taken different sides in petty Cor- 
sican politics ; there had been an affray at the 
polls, Pozzo had been knocked down and 
roughly handled by the Bonaparte faction. 
Here was the origin of one of the most active, 
vindictive and persistent hatreds on record; 
and there is no doubt whatever that the Cor- 
sican gentleman who now glitters in this bril- 
liant throng, in the Duchess of Richmond's 
ball-room, has done Napoleon a vast deal of 
harm. It was he, more than any other, who 
influenced the Emperor Alexander against 
Napoleon. It was he, more than any other, 
who in 1 8 14 persuaded the Allies to revoke 
the order, already given, to retreat upon the 
Rhine and, instead, to march straight upon 
Paris. 

More notable still, is another opponent of 
Napoleon whom we see in this famous ball- 
room. It is Sir Sydney Smith. '^That man 
caused me to miss my destiny!" exclaimed Na- 
poleon. For Sir Sydney was the unconquer- 
able Englishman who threw himself into 
Acre and showed the Turks how to defend it. 



76 WATERLOO 

Against those walls the French dashed them- 
selves in vain. Baffled, exhausted, his rear 
threatened, his heart filled with impotent 
rage, Napoleon had to abandon his gorgeous 
visions of Eastern conquest and drink to the 
dregs a bitter cup of humiliation. 

Of course the Duke of Wellington is here, 
and many of the officers of his army. The 
French nobles (emigres) are represented by 
some of the proudest names of the Ancient 
Regime. Ladies of high degree are present — 
ladies of beauty, wit, and grace, some from 
Belgium, France, England, but none of these 
are so well known as a certain pretty, doting, 
neglected wife named Amelia, and a dashing, 
brilliant, wicked adventuress, Becky Sharp, 
whom Thackeray brings to the ball. As long 
as there is such a thing as English literature 
these two, together with the prodigal George 
Osborne and honest William Dobbin, will 
move amid those revellers and live amid the 
stirring scenes of the Eve of Waterloo. 

"A thousand hearts beat happily; and when 
Music arose with its voluptuous swell, 
Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spake again, 
And all went merrily as a marriage bell." 

There was no boom of cannon to halt the 
dance. There was no opening roar of battle 



WATERLOO 77 

that broke In upon the revelry. The Duke 
of Wellington sat down comfortably to the 
table where the midnight supper was served, 
and the officers remained at the ball hours 
later. Then, as they had been ordered, they 
withdrew quietly, one by one, and finally the 
Duke came to make his own adieus. 

The youngest daughter of the Duchess of 
Richmond was awakened and brought down 
to the ball-room. With her tiny fingers she 
buckled on the great soldier's sword. 

Do we not all of us recall how Major 
Dobbin seeks out Captain George, who has 
been madly gaming and madly drinking? 

" 'Hullo, Dob ! Come and drink, old 
Dob ! The Duke's wine Is famous.' 

" 'Come out, George,' said Dobbin gravely. 
'Don't drink.' 

"Dobbin went up to him and whispered 
something to him, at which George, giving a 
start and a wild hurray, tossed off his glass, 
clapped It on the table, and walked away 
speedily on his friend's arm." 

What Dobbin said was this : "The enemy 
has crossed the Sambre : our left Is already en- 
gaged. Come away. We are to march In 
three hours." 



78 WATERLOO 

"And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed, 

The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, 
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, 

And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; 
And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; 

And near, the beat of the alarming drum 
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star. 

While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb. 
Or whispering, with white lips — 'The foe! They come, 
they come!' " 

Again, Thackeray: "The sun was just 
rising as the march began — it was a gal- 
lant sight — the band led the column, playing 
the regimental march; then came the major 
in command, riding upon Pyramus, his stout 
charger; then marched the grenadiers, their 
captain at their head ; in the center were the 
colors, borne by the senior and junior ensigns ; 
then George came marching at the head of his 
company. He looked up, and smiled at 
Amelia, and passed on; and even the sound 
of music died away." And Amelia and thou- 
sands of other wives go back to wait, to weep, 
to pray. 

How hard it is to believe that after the offi- 
cers had hurried away to join their com- 
mands, after the Duke of Wellington had 
left, after every young man and young wo- 
man in the ball-room knew that their late 
partners were hastening to the battlefield, the 
hall should continue. 



WATERLOO 79 

Instead of being broken up by the boom- 
ing cannon and the agonizing leavetaklngs 
Imagined by Lord Byron, the revel went on 
till morning, when It ended In the usual way. 

Not until six In the morning of June i6th 
did the Duke of Wellington leave Brussels, 
and, had the orders which he Issued the even- 
ing before been carried out, he would have 
found Ney between himself and the English 
army, with the Prussians annihilated ! Acting 
upon their own responsibility. Major Nor- 
mann and the Prince of Saxe- Weimar had 
taken possession of Quatre Bras. The 
Prince of Orange's Chief of Staff, Constant 
Rebecque, delivered to the officers the written 
orders of Wellington, but told them verbally. 
In effect, not to obey. As a matter of fact, 
these officers paid no attention to the written 
orders, but acted upon their own judgment. 
They could see for themselves what ought to 
be done, and they did It. They all rushed to 
Quatre Bras, determined to hold It at what- 
ever cost. 

At ten o'clock, Wellington arrived, and he 
congratulated General Perponcher on being 
In possession of Quatre Bras, whose vital Im- 
portance he now recognized for the first time. 



8o WATERLOO 

Not being attacked at Quatre Bras, Wel- 
lington rode to the heights of Brye to see, 
for himself, what was going on at Ligny. 
He and Bliicher went up in the mill of Bussy, 
from whose roof they could plainly see every 
movement of the French. 

It was now too late for the Prussians to es- 
cape battle. Therefore, Wellington, in part- 
ing from Bliicher to return to Quatre Bras, 
coolly said, "I will come to your support pro- 
vided I am not attacked myself." To his 
aide Wellington remarked, "If he fights here 
he will be damnably licked." 

No wonder that Gneisenau, Chief of Staff 
to Bliicher, formed the opinion that Welling- 
ton was a "master-knave." 

Had the Prussian hero, Bliicher, been as 
craftily selfish as Wellington, there would 
have been no Waterloo. 

On his arrival at Quatre Bras, Welling- 
ton found that Ney had at last realized the 
true meaning of the Emperor's orders, and he 
made frantic efforts to regain what he had 
lost. Too late. Vainly Jerome Bonaparte 
fights with desperate courage to win and hold 
the Boissou wood: vainly Kellerman hurls 
his handful of horsemen upon the ever-in- 
creasing infantry of the enemy; vainly Ney 



WATERLOO 8 1 

exposes himself to the hottest fire, rallying 
broken lines and leading them back to the 
charge. Too late. Regiment after regiment 
of the English army arrives. In hot haste, 
the young officers, who, a few hours ago, had 
been dancing at the Duchess of Richmond's 
ball, throw themselves into the fight, still in 
the silk stockings and buckled shoes of the 
ball-room. 

So impetuous had been the assault of the 
French that at first the English and Hano- 
verians were driven. The Duke of Welling- 
ton, narrowly escaping capture, was borne 
backward by the rout. In person he rallied 
his men and led a cavalry charge which broke 
on the French line. Not until the coming up 
of Picton's division did the tide decisively 
turn; but then the French, heavily outnum- 
bered, were worsted at all points. 

"The fate of France is in your hands," the 
Emperor had written, and Ney had not un- 
derstood. All the hours of the morning of 
the 1 6th he had not understood. Precious 
hours had glided by unimproved. Now it is 
afternoon, and at last Ney understands. 

And it is too late. Were he the ally of 
Wellington and Bliicher, he could not serve 
6 



82 WATERLOO 

them better. Were he the mortal enemy of 
France, he could not serve her worse. 

Overwhelmed by the sudden consciousness 
of his terrible mistake, the heroic Ney was 
almost demented. "Oh, that all these Eng- 
lish balls were buried in my body!" Impo- 
tent rage, vain remorse : the English were up, 
and all of Wellington's delays and blunders 
were remedied. 

Verily, those who say there is no such thing 
as Luck have never studied the history of the 
Hundred Days ! 

The fatality of the day was, of course, the 
pendulum swing of D'Erlon's corps — a pen- 
dulum which swung first toward Napoleon, 
then toward Ney, reaching neither. Had 
not the Emperor turned it back when on its 
way to join Ney, Wellington would have been 
crushed. Had not Ney recalled it when it 
was in sight of th€ Emperor, Bliicher would 
have been destroyed. But Napoleon took it 
away from Ney, and Ney took it away from 
Napoleon, and neither got to use it. 

D'Erlon's corps of 20,000 men was utterly 
lost to the French, although it was on the 
march all day and burning to be in the fight. 
Nothing in military history equals the ill-luck 



WATERLOO 83 

of this day. In the first place, Souk's order 
to D'Erlon was ambiguous. D'Erlon did not 
understand it, and the inexperienced staff- 
officer, Forbin-Janson, was unable to explain 
it. This accounts for D'Erlon showing up at 
the wrong place and creating consternation 
among the French which delayed the final 
blow and saved Bliicher. 

In the second place, Soult sent only one 
staff-officer, and this one did not carry out or- 
ders. He did not inform Ney. 

An experienced staff-officer would have un- 
derstood the necessity of notifying Ney of 
the Emperor's orders to D'Erlon, for the 
Emperor had placed D'Erlon under the im- 
mediate command of Ney. As it was. Mar- 
shal Ney was needing D'Erlon as badly as 
the Emperor needed him, and was expecting 
him every minute. Therefore, he continued 
to send urgent, peremptory orders that 
D'Erlon should hasten to join him. 

Even when General Delcambre, sent by 
D'Erlon after D'Erlon was well on his way 
back to Ligny, reported the retrograde move- 
ment to Ney, the insubordinate Marshal flew 
into a passion and sent General Delcambre 
back with an imperative order that D'Erlon 



84 WATERLOO 

should march on Quatre Bras. In taking 
upon himself to overrule his Emperor, he did 
not even consider the lateness of the hour, 
which made it impossible for D'Erlon to join 
him in time to be of any service. 



CHAPTER VII 

While It was not disorganized or demoral- 
ized, Bliicher's army was in great peril. Two 
of his army corps were concentrated at 
Wavre, one was at Gembloux, and the fourth 
at Wandesett. Had the French been vigi- 
lant, these separated corps might have been 
overwhelmed in detail. Through the care- 
lessness of videttes, the lack of enterprise in 
the leaders of reconnoitering parties and the 
unpardonable neglect of General Exelmans, 
neither Napoleon nor Grouchy was informed 
of the movement of the Prussian corps. 

After Grouchy was given command of 
33,000 troops to pursue the Prussians, the 
delays in starting, the slowness of the march, 
the lack of harmony between Grouchy and his 
two lieutenants, Vandamme and Gerard, 
made the "pursuit" the most futile on record. 

How it was that an army of 70,000 Prus- 
sians could get lost to the French, then found, 
then lost again, is something that the untu- 
tored civilian labors in vain to understand. 

Yet that is the truth about it. The morn- 
ing after the battle of Ligny the French did 



86 WATERLOO 

not know what had become of the Prussian 
army. They began to hunt for It. The 
search was clumsy and far afield. But at 
length Thielman's corps was located at 
Gembloux. Grouchy's entire army might 
have enveloped and crushed it. Not being 
attacked, Thielman sensibly retired, and when 
the French entered Gembloux they did not 
even know what had become of those Prus- 
sians. A strange "pursuit," truly. 

Although he still had two hours of day- 
light, Grouchy decided that the "pursuit" 
had been pushed far enough for one day, and 
he postponed further activities until the mor- 
row. During the night he received in- 
telligence that the whole Prussian army was 
marching on Wavre. That Wavre was on a 
parallel line to the line of Wellington's re- 
treat, and that Bliicher's purpose might be to 
succor Wellington when necessary never once 
entered Grouchy's head. On the contrary, he 
believed that Bliicher was making for Brus- 
sels and would not tarry at Wavre. Yet he 
knew that the Emperor was expecting a battle 
just where that of the next day was fought. 

Then why not put his 33,000 men nearer 
to the Emperor than Bliicher would be to 
Wellington? To do so he had but to cross 



WATERLOO 87 

the little river Dyle and march along its left 
bank. Wavre Is on the left bank of the Dyle, 
and therefore he would have to cross It In any 
event, going to Wavre. And by maneuver- 
ing on that side of the river he could the more 
readily keep In communication with the Em- 
peror and succor him in case of need. That 
Napoleon expected Grouchy to do this is 
shown by the orders which he gave to General 
Marbot to throw out cavalry detachments in 
that direction. On the morning of the fate- 
ful 1 8th the well-rested troops of Grouchy 
might have marched at three. Yet they were 
not ordered to move till six, and did not ac- 
tually get under way until about eight. When 
the French of Grouchy left Gembloux for 
Wavre, the Prussians had already been four 
hours on the desperate march to Waterloo. 

Having at length got his army off, the ad- 
mirable Grouchy rode as far as Walhain, 
where he entered the house of a notary to 
write a dispatch to the Emperor. Having 
done this, — It was now about ten o'clock, — 
Marshal Grouchy coolly sat down to his 
breakfast. At this hour the Prussian ad- 
vance guard had reached St. Lambert, and 
Wellington knew it. And here was Napo- 
leon's lieutenant, placidly working his way to 



88 WATERLOO 

those historic strawberries, blissfully Ignorant 
of the fact that his stupendous folly had 
wrecked Napoleon's last campaign. 

Upon this breakfast enter the excited offi- 
cers who have heard the opening guns at Wa- 
terloo. "A rear-guard affair, no doubt," 
thinks the admirable Grouchy. But soon the 
distant thunder and the cloud of smoke tell 
of a battle, a great battle — a battle of which 
men will talk as long as there are human 
tongues to wag, as long as there are human 
hearts to feel. 

"The battle Is at Mont-Salnt-Jean," says a 
guide. And that Is where the Emperor 
thought the fight would be. "We must 
march to the cannon," says Gerard. So says 
General Valeze. But Grouchy pleads his or- 
ders. "If you will not go, allow me to go 
with my corps and General Vallln's cavalry," 
pleads Gerard. "No," said Grouchy; "It 
would be an unpardonable mistake to divide 
my troops." And he galloped away to amuse 
himself with Thlelman, as Bliicher had meant 
that he should do. 

So, all day long, while the Emperor 
strained his eyes to the right, looking, look- 
ing, oh how longingly! for his own legions, 



WATERLOO 89 

his own eagles, Grouchy was In a mere rear- 
guard engagement with Thielman. 

When Bulow appeared like a sudden cloud 
in the horizon, the Emperor hoped it was 
Grouchy. When the cannonade at Wavre 
reached La Belle Alliance, the Emperor 
fancied that the sound drew nearer — that 
Grouchy was coming, at last. The agony of 
suspense which drew from Wellington the 
famous "Bliicher, or night," could only have 
been equalled by the storm which raged 
within the Emperor's breast — the storm of 
impotent rage, and of regret that he had 
leaned so heavy upon so frail a reed as 
Grouchy. 

The positive order which the Emperor 
sent to Grouchy, after the appearance of 
the Prussians at Chapelle-Saint-Lambert, 
were delivered in time for a diversion in Bil- 
low's rear which would have released Na- 
poleon's right. But Grouchy decided that he 
would obey this order after he had taken 
Wavre. As he did not take Wavre until 
nightfall, he might just as well have been 
openly a traitor to his flag. During the 
whole of two days he had been repeating 
"my orders, my orders," and his apologists 
are forever prating about those orders; but 



90 WATERLOO 

what about this last order, hot and direct, 
from the field where all was at stake ? How 
could a victory over Thielman be anything 
but a trivial affair in comparison with the tre- 
mendous conflict going on over there at Mont- 
Saint-Jean ? 

Ah, well, he took Wavre, licked his Thiel- 
man, extricated his army very cleverly from a 
most perilous position made for it by the dis- 
aster of Waterloo, got back into France in 
admirable shape, and had the satisfaction of 
knowing that he had made a record unique 
in the history of the world. 

As the man who did not do the thing he 
was sent to do. Grouchy has no peer. As a 
man who, in war, exemplified the adage of 
"penny wise and pound foolish," Grouchy is 
unapproachable. As a man who, — by an al- 
most miraculous union of inertness, stupidity, 
pig-headed obstinacy, complacent conceit, 
jealous pride, and inopportune wilfulness, — 
caused the last battle of the greatest soldier 
of all time to become the synonym for un- 
bounded and irremediable disaster, Grouchy 
occupies a lofty, lonely pillar of his own — a 
sort of military Simeon Stylites. 



CHAPTER VIII 

WATERLOO 

Why had the Emperor been so late in get- 
ting into motion on the morning of the i6th? 
Why had he not started at live o'clock, and 
caught Zieten's corps unsupported? Why 
did he give Bliicher time to concentrate? 
Why did he not press the attack farther on 
the evening of the day when the Prussians 
were in full retreat? Why did he fail to give 
Grouchy the customary order to pursue with 
all the cavalry? 

Satisfactory answers cannot be made. 
That Napoleon's conceptions were as grand 
as ever is apparent, but his failure in matters 
of detail is equally clear. Perhaps mental 
and physical weariness after several hours of 
sustained exertion and anxiety, furnish the 
most plausible explanation of these errors. 

At any rate, when he threw himself on his 
bed at Fluerus on the night of the i6th. Na- 
poleon was worn out. Yet he did not know 
the true state of the Prussian army, nor what 
Ney had done at Quatre Bras. Soult sent no 



92 WATERLOO 

dispatches to Ney, and Ney sent none to 
Soult. 

The Emperor went to sleep believing but 
not knowing that Bliicher had been so badly 
battered that it would take him at least two 
days to gather together the remnant of his 
army. More unfortunately still, Napoleon 
believed that the Prussians had taken up a 
line of retreat which would carry them be- 
yond supporting distance of the English. 

To the contrary of both these convictions 
of the Emperor, the bulk of the Prussian 
army was preserving its formation, and 
Gneisenau, acting for Bliicher, who was be- 
lieved to be dead or a prisoner, had directed 
the retreat on Wavre. Thus the Prussians 
were keeping within supporting distance of 
the English, although this was not Gneise- 
nau's motive in issuing the order. He chose 
Wavre for the reason that at Wavre the sep- 
arated corps of the army could best reunite. 

The morning of the 17th of June dawns, 
and Napoleon has Wellington in his power. 
But neither Wellington nor Napoleon knows 
it. The Duke does not know what has be- 
come of the Prussians, and the Emperor does 
not know that the English are where he and 



WATERLOO 93 

Ney, acting in concert, can utterly destroy 
them. 

It seems incredible that Ney sent no report 
to Napoleon, and that the Emperor sent no 
courier to Ney. But that is just the fact. It 
was not until after Wellington had received 
the report of the Prussian retreat, had real- 
ized his peril, and was backing away from it, 
that Napoleon awoke to a sense of the oppor- 
tunity which fortune had held for him all that 
morning, while he lay supinely upon his bed, 
or idly talked Parisian politics with his offi- 
cers. 

When he did realize what might have been, 
he was ablaze with a fierce desire to make up 
for lost time. Too late. Wellington was 
already at a safe distance, in full retreat on 
Brussels, and Ney had not molested him by 
firing a single shot. 

Soon the Emperor reached Quatre Bras, 
but what could he do? True, he could dash 
after the English cavalry and chase it as the 
hunter chases the hare, but even the rearguard 
of the enemy made good its escape. 

They say that as the black storm cloud 
spread over the heavens to the North the 
hills behind were still bathed in sunlight, and 
that as the English officer, Lord Uxbridge, 



94 WATERLOO 

looked back, he saw a horseman suddenly 
emerge from a dip in the road and appear on 
the hill in front — and they knew it to be Na- 
poleon, leading the pursuit. 

A battery galloped up, took position, 
opened fire. And as it did so, the thunder 
from the storm-cloud mingled with the thun- 
der of the guns, and the great rain of June 
17th had begun to pour down. 

"Gallop faster, men! For God's sake, 
gallop, or you will be taken!" It was Lord 
Uxbridge speeding his flying cavalry. 

After them streamed the French. Almost, 
but not quite, the English were overtaken. 
So close came the French that the English 
heard their curses and jeers, just as Sir John 
Moore's retreating men heard them as they 
took to their boats after the death-grapple at 
Corunna. 

Torrents of rain were pouring down. The 
roads became bogs. Where the highways 
passed between embankments each road was 
a rushing stream. Horses mired to their 
knees. Cannon carriages sank to the hubs. 
The infantry was soaked with water and cov-^ 
ered with mud. The labor of getting for- 
ward was exhausting to man and beast But 
the French pressed on until they reached the 



WATERLOO 95 

hills opposite the heights of Mont-Saint-Jean. 
Upon those heights, and between the French 
and Brussels, Wellington had come to a 
stand. 

A reconnaissance In force caused the Eng- 
lish to unmask, and Napoleon was happy. 
The English army was before him. That he 
would crush It on the morrow, he had not the 
slightest doubt. He not only believed this, 
but had good reason to believe it. Had not 
the Prussians gone away to Namur, out of 
supporting distance? Such was his firm con- 
viction, based partly on the knowledge of 
what would be the natural course for the re- 
treating army to take, and partly on the re- 
port of his scouts. Besides, had he not sent 
Grouchy, Vandamme, and Gerard to take 
care of Bliicher? 

Could the great soldier believe that his lieu- 
tenants, trained In his own school by years of 
service In the field, could manage so stupidly 
as to allow the Prussians to take him In flank, 
while he was giving battle to the English? 

Regarding the vexed question as to whether 
the order given to Grouchy was sufficient, a 
civilian can but say that It would seem that 
Grouchy ought to have known what was ex- 
pected of him even if he had not been spe- 



96 WATERLOO 

daily instructed. The very size of the 
army entrusted to him was enough to denote 
its purpose. The fact that Napoleon was 
going after Wellington and was sending 
Grouchy after Bliicher said as plainly as 
words, "You take care of Bliicher, while I 
take care of Wellington." By necessary im- 
plication, the mere sending of Grouchy with 
33,000 men after Bliicher meant that 
Grouchy's mission was to keep the Prussians 
off Napoleon while Napoleon was fighting 
the English. 

This was the common sense of It, and the 
Emperor had every reason to believe that no 
intelligent officer of his army could possibly 
understand it otherwise. 

Therefore, when he saw that Wellington 
meant to give battle, he felt the stern joy of 
the warrior who expects a fair fight and a 
brilliant victory. 

To Napoleon, a victory there meant even 
more. It meant the possible end of arduous 
warfare, an era of peace for France, the re- 
turn to his arms of his son, and the crowning 
of his wonderful career by the continuation 
and completion of that system of internal im- 
provements and beneficent institutions to 
which Europe owes so much. Therefore, 



WATERLOO ;97 

when he plowed through the mud, drenched 
with rain, and went the rounds of his army 
posts, peering through the mists toward the 
English lines, listening for any sound of an 
army breaking camp to retreat, he was happy 
to be convinced, "They mean to fight." 

No one could shake his belief that the Prus- 
sians had gone off toward Namur. That they 
had retired by a parallel line with the Eng- 
lish was incredible. That Bliicher would ap- 
pear on the morrow, and strike his flank 
within two hours after the signal for battle 
was fired, was a thought which could not pos- 
sibly have been driven into Napoleon's head. 

In vain did his brother Jerome tell him of 
what a servant of the inn had overheard the 
English officers say, that very afternoon — 
that Bliicher was to come to their aid the next 
day. Napoleon scouted the story. To his 
dying day, it is doubtful whether he believed 
that Wellington's decision to stay and fight 
was based upon the practical certainty that 
Bliicher would come to his aid. To that effect 
Bliicher had given his promise — and Wel- 
lington knew that Bliicher was not the man 
to make his ally a false promise to induce 
him to fight. 
7 



98 WATERLOO 

Although Napoleon had slept but little on 
Saturday night (the 17th) and had been out 
in the rain and mud for hours making the 
rounds of his outposts, a distance of two 
miles, he seemed fresh and cheerful at 
breakfast, and chatted freely with his officers. 

There was a question of fixing the hour of 
the attack. To give the ground time to be- 
come drier and firmer under sun and wind, 
hour after hour was suffered to pass. All 
this while the more energetic Bliicher was 
plowing his way toward the field, over ground 
just as wet. To a civilian it would seem if 
the soil was firm enough to march on, it was 
firm enough to fight on. If the Prussians 
could drag their artillery through the defiles 
of the Lasne, the French should have been 
able to handle theirs in the valleys of Smo- 
haine and Braine-L'Alleud. 

Therefore, it would seem to this writer 
that on the morning of June iStJi, when Na- 
poleon Bonaparte sat idly in his lines waiting 
for sun and wind to harden the ground, he 
had no one but himself to bla!me for giving 
Bliicher time to reach the field. During these 
hours of waiting it appears singular that no 
details of the plan of attack were discussed. 
It seems strange that no preparations were 



WATERLOO 99 

made to cannonade the chateau of Hougou- 
mont and its outbuildings and walls. It 
seems strange that no battery was planted to 
shell the farmhouses of La Haye-Sainte. It 
seems equally strange that nails and hammers 
were not provided for the spiking of captured 
cannon. 

One of the most horribly fascinating of 
historical manuscripts is the warrant against 
his enemies which Robespierre was signing 
when Bourdon broke into the room and shot 
him. There is the incomplete signature of 
the erstwhile Dictator, and there are the 
stains made by the blood which spurted from 
his shattered jaw. 

Even more profoundly interesting are a 
few words written in pencil by Marshal Ney, 
upon an order which Soult was about to send 
to General D'Erlon: ^'Count D'Erlon will 
understand that the action is to commence on 
the left, not on the right. Communicate this 
new arrangement to General Reile." 

Why had the Emperor changed his mind? 
At St. Helena, he appears not to have recalled 
the fact that he changed his plan of battle 
because Ney reported that a small stream, 
which was on the line of advance to the right, 



loo WATERLOO 

had been swollen by the rains and it was Im- 
passable. 

Stonewall Jackson was one of the many 
military experts who studied the field of Wa- 
terloo, and who said that the attack should 
have been made on the right. It was there 
that Wellington was weakest. Had the 
French struck him there, Hougoumont 
would have been worthless to him and would 
not have cost such a frightful loss to the 
French. But the Emperor, at the last mo- 
ment, changed his mind. 

THE LAST BATTLE 

^^Magnificent! Magnificent F' exclaimed 
Napoleon as he overlooked the legions that 
were moving over the plateau, going into po- 
sition. 

Seated on his white mare, his gray dust- 
coat covering all but the front of the green 
uniform, on his head the small cocked hat of 
the Brienne school, silver spurs on the riding- 
boots which reached the knee, and at his side 
the sword of Marengo — the great Captain 
was never more radiant, never surer of suc- 
cess than now. 

Five rEvipereur! rolled in thundeij tones 



WATERLOO loi 

as the troops marched before him. The 
drum-beat was drowned in the mighty shout 
of the legions as they went down into the 
valley of the shadow of death. It was, on 
the vastest scale, the old, old cry of the gladi- 
ators as they trooped past the imperial box 
to take their stations in the arena — ^'Caesar! 
we, who are about to die, salute youP^ 

As the regiments passed in review, the 
eagles were dipped to the Emperor, every 
saber flashed in the sun, every bayonet 
waved a hat or cap, every pennon was wildly 
shaken, every band struck up the national air, 
^'het lis watch over the safety of the Km- 
pire'' — and over everything, drowning the 
roll of the drums and the call of the bugles, 
rose that frantic cry of frenzied devotion, 
''Vive I'Empereiir!'' 

Napoleon's eye dilated, his breast ex- 
panded with pride — for the last time, the 
very last time. Proud he had often been, and 
in most instances he had won the right to be 
so. On the heights of Rossomme and on the 
plateau of La Belle Alliance, he was, this 
Sunday morning, deservedly proud. He had 
reconquered an empire without drawing the 
swoi'J, had almost done what Pompey had 



102 WATERLOO 

boasted that he could do — called forth an 
army by the stamp of his foot; had smitten 
his enemies and put them to rout, and now 
while his lieutenant, on the right, would "cut 
off the Prussians from Wellington," — as 
Grouchy had written that he would, — he, Na- 
poleon, would crush the English, and so win 
back peace with honor. 

A more magnificent army than that which 
he proudly views has never been marshalled 
for battle, for here are heroes whose record 
reaches all the way back through Montmi- 
rail, Dresden, Wagram, Jena, Borodino, 
Austerlitz, Eylau and Friedland, to Marengo. 

And Napoleon is proud, this last time. 

In the field Napoleon had 74,000 men and 
246 guns; Wellington had 67,000 men and 
184 guns. But the British position was 
strong. The hollow road of Ohain gave 
them the benefit of its trench for 400 yards. 
There were barricades of felled trees on the 
Brussels and Nivelles roads. There was a 
sand-pit which served as an intrenchment, and 
the strong buildings and enclosure of Hougou- 
mont. La Haye-Sainte and Papelotte were 
formidable defences. 

Yet General Haxo, who was sent by Na- 



WATERLOO 103 

poleon to Inspect the enemy's lines, reported 
that he could not perceive any fortifications ! 

In addition to the hollow road, the natural 
advantage of the position of the English was 
that, from the crest which they were to de- 
fend, the ground fell away so as to form a 
declivity behind the crest, and along this hill- 
side the English were partially sheltered from 
the French fire and altogether hidden from 
view. From where he was. Napoleon could 
not see more than half of Wellington's army. 
Another natural protection to the English 
position were the tall, thick hedges, Impass- 
able to the French cavalry. 

All things considered, the attempt of the 
Emperor to break the center of an English 
army, so well posted as this, can be fairly 
compared to Lee's efforts to storm the heights 
of Gettysburg. And In each case the attack 
was made In ignorance of vitally Important 
facts. 

Well might Napoleon afterward reproach 
himself for not having reconnoltered the Eng- 
lish position. 

At thirty-five minutes past eleven the first 
gun was fired. 

Reille had been ordered to occupy the ap- 



104 WATERLOO 

proaches to Hougoumont, and had entrusted 
the movement to Jerome Bonaparte. At the 
head of the ist Light Infantry he charged 
the wood held by Nassau and Hanoverian 
carbineers. An hour of furious fighting in 
the dense thickets — in which General Bauduin 
was killed — resulted in clearing the woods of 
the enemy ; but on getting clear of the thicket 
the French found themselves coming upon the 
strong walls and the large buildings of the 
chateau. 

Jerome had no orders to lead infantry 
against a fortress like this, but he did it, 
nevertheless. Wellington had thrown a gar- 
rison into Hougoumont ; the walls were loop- 
holed for musketry ; and the French were led 
to slaughter. It was impossible for infantry 
to break these thick walls of solid masonry, 
yet Jerome, in spite of the advice of his chief 
of staff and the orders of his immediate 
superior, Reille, persisted until Hougoumont 
had cost the lives of i,6oo Frenchmen and 
had called away from the main battle nearly 
I i,ooo men. 

Why it was that the walls were not 
breached with cannon before the infantry was 
led against them can only be explained upon 
the hypothesis that the Emperor never once 



WATERLOO 105 

thought his brother capable of so mad an un- 
dertaking. 

It was nearly one o'clock when Napoleon 
formed a battery of eighty guns and was 
ready to make a great attack on the English 
center. Before giving word to Ney, who was 
to lead it, the Emperor carefully scanned the 
entire battlefield through his glass. 

What is that black cloud which has come 
upon the distant horizon, there on the north- 
east? Every staff officer turns his glasses 
to the heights of Chapelle-Saint-Lambert. 
"Trees,'' say some. But Napoleon knows 
better. Those are troops. But whose? Are 
they his? Is it Grouchy? Suppose it is the 
advance guard of Bliicher ! 

A hush, a chill falls upon the staff. A 
cavalry squad is sent to reconnoiter; but be- 
fore it has even cleared itself of the French 
lines, a prisoner taken by Marbot's hussars is 
brought to the Emperor. This prisoner was 
the bearer of a letter from Biilow to Welling- 
ton to announce the arrival of the Prussians ! 
Even now the Emperor does not realize his 
danger, does not suspect the truth of the 
situation, for he believes that Grouchy is so 
maneuvering as to protect the French right 
and to prevent the Prussians from falling on 



io6 WATERLOO 

his flank. Napoleon sends him the dispatch: 
"A letter which has just been intercepted tells 
us that General Biilow is to attack our right 
flank. We believe we can perceive the corps 
on the heights of Chapelle-Saint-Lambert. 
Therefore do not lose a minute to draw 
nearer to us and to join us and crush Biilow, 
whom you will catch in the very act." 

Immediately the Emperor detached the 
cavalry divisions of Domon and Subervie to 
the right to be ready to hold the Prussians in 
check, and the 6th Corps (Lobau) was or- 
dered to move up behind this cavalry. 

Thus from half-past one in the afternoon 
Napoleon had two armies with which to deal. 

Had he suspected that Bliicher had left 
Thielman's corps to amuse Grouchy while the 
bulk of the Prussian army was hastening to 
join Biilow on the right flank of the French, 
the Emperor would probably not have gone 
deeper into this fight. Expecting every mo- 
ment to hear the roar of Grouchy's guns in 
Biilow's rear, the Emperor now ordered Ney 
to the grand attack on the English line. 

Eighty cannon thundered against Mont- 
Saint-Jean, and the English batteries roared 
in reply. For half an hour the earth quivered 
with the shock, and in Brussels, twenty miles 



WATERLOO 107 

away, every living soul hung upon the roar of 
the guns. Merchants closed their stores; 
business of all sorts suspended; eager crowds 
hurried to the Namur gate to listen, to ques- 
tion stragglers from the front; timid travel- 
lers, who had come in the train of Welling- 
ton's army, hastily secured conveyances and 
fled by the Ghent road. In the churches, 
women prayed. 

Is Bliicher the only man who could play the 
game of leaving a part of his troops to detain 
the enemy? Cannot Grouchy leave 10,000 
men to die, if necessary, in holding Thielman, 
while with the remainder he pushes for the 
distant battlefield? 

There are those who say he could not have 
arrived in time had he made the effort. How 
can anybody know that? Certainly his cav- 
alry could have covered the distance, and the 
infantry in all probability would have arrived 
in time to take the exhausted English in the 
rear, after their advance to La Belle Alliance, 
and cut the surprised troops to pieces. 

Thus while the Prussians were chasing 
Napoleon, Grouchy would have been chasing 
Wellington, with the net result that the Prus- 
sians, within a few days, would have been 
caught between Napoleon's rallied troops 



io8 WATERLOO 

and the victorious army of Grouchy. But it 
was not to be so. Grouchy did precisely what 
Bliicher wanted him to do — spent the golden 
hours with Thielman at Wavre. 

After the cannonade of half an hour, Ney 
and D'Erlon led the grand attack on the 
English position. And a worse managed af- 
fair it would be difficult to imagine. Instead 
of forming columns of attack, admitting of 
easy and rapid deployment, the troops were 
massed in compact phalanxes, with a front of 
1 66 to 200 files, with a depth of twenty-four 
men. The destruction which canister causes 
on dense masses like these, exposed in the 
open field, is something horrible to contem- 
plate. The error was so glaring that one of 
the division commanders, Durutte, flatly re- 
fused to allow his men to be formed in that 
way. 

Where was the eagle glance of Napoleon 
that he did not detect the faulty formation 
which Ney and D'Erlon were making? Is 
such a detail beneath the notice of a command- 
er-in-chief? 

If the Emperor saw the mistake he gave no 
sign, and the troops of D'Erlon, ashamed of 
not having been in the fights of the i6th. 



WATERLOO 109 

rushed into the valley shouting, ^^Vive I'Em- 
peretirT^ 

"Into the jaws of death" they marched, for 
as they crossed the valley and mounted the 
slopes beyond, the English batteries cut long 
lanes through their deep, dense lines and they 
fell by the hundreds. 

A part of the attacking force was thrown 
against the walls and buildings of La Haye- 
Sainte, and here, as at Hougoumont, infantry 
were slaughtered from behind unbreached 
walls. But the great charge against the Eng- 
lish position went on heedless of such detail 
as the attack on La Haye-Sainte. Through 
the rye, which was breast-high, and over 
ground into which they mired at every step, 
the columns of D'Erlon pressed upward, cry- 
ing ^^Vive FEmpereiir!'^ 

The defenders of the sand pit were driven 
out and thrown beyond the hedges. The 
Netherlanders and Dutch broke, and in their 
flight behind the hedges disordered the ranks 
of an English regiment. The Nassau troops, 
which held the Papelotte farm, were dis- 
lodged by the French under Durutte, and the 
great charge seemed to be on the point of suc- 
ceeding. But the faulty formation of the at- 
tacking columns ruined all. When the at- 



no WATERLOO 

tempt was made to deploy, so much time was 
consumed that the English gunners had only 
to fire at the dense mass of men to litter the 
earth with the wounded and the dead. The 
carnage was frightful. 

Picton, the English general, seeing the ef- 
forts of the French to deploy, seized the op- 
portunity, led a brigade against the French 
column, delivered a volley, and then ordered 
a bayonet charge. Pouring from behind the 
hedges, the English rushed upon the con- 
fused mass of French, and a terrible fight at 
close quarters took place. It was here that 
Picton was killed. 

While the column of Donzelot was en- 
gaged in this desperate struggle, the column 
of Marcognet had broken through the hedges 
and was advancing to take a battery. But as 
the French shouted ''Victory," the sound of 
the bag-pipes was heard, and the Highlanders 
opened fire. Owing to their faulty formation, 
the French could only reply by a volley from 
the front line of a single battalion. Their 
only hope was to charge with the bayonet. 
While desperately engaged with the Scotch 
troops. Lord Uxbridge dashed upon them 
with his cavalry. 

The issue could not be doubtful. The 



WATERLOO III 

French could not deploy; the confused mass 
could not defend Itself against Infantry or 
cavalry. They were raked by cannon shot, 
and by musketry, and the English cavalry 
hacked them to pieces. The slaughter was 
pitiable and was mainly due to a formation 
which gave these brave men no chance to 
fight. 

In their exultation the English carried their 
charges too far. The Scotch Greys, Indeed, 
dashed up the slope upon which the French 
were posted, captured the division of batteries 
of Durutte and attempted to carry the main 
battery. Napoleon himself ordered the 
countercharge which swept the English cav- 
alry beyond La Haye-Salnte. 

All this while, Jerome Bonaparte was still 
assaulting Hougoumont. Defenders and 
assailants had each been reinforced. The 
Emperor ordered a battery of howitzers to 
shell the buildings. Fire broke out, and the 
chateau and Its outbuildings were consumed. 
The English threw themselves into the 
chapel, the barn, the farmer's house, a sunken 
road, and continued to hold the position. 

It was now half-past three o'clock. Well- 
ington and Napoleon were both becoming 
uneasy — the former because Bliicher's troops 



112 WATERLOO 

were not yet in line, the latter because he had 
begun to doubt that Grouchy would come. 
The Emperor ordered Ney to make another 
attack on La Haye-Sainte. The English, 
from behind hedges of the Ohain road, re- 
pulsed it. 

While the movement was being made the 
main French battery of eighty guns cannon- 
aded the English right center. "Never had 
the oldest soldiers heard such a cannonade," 
said General Alten. 

The English line moved back a short dis- 
tance so as to get the protection of the edge 
of the plateau. Ney, mistaking this move- 
ment, ordered a cavalry charge. At first he 
meant to use a brigade only, but owing to 
some misunderstanding that cannot be cleared 
up, this intended charge of a brigade drew 
into it practically all the cavalry of the French 
army. Napoleon himself did not see what 
was happening. From his position near the 
"Maison Decoster" inn, Napoleon did not 
have a view of the ground in which the cav- 
alry divisions were forming for this prema- 
ture disastrous attack. 

The English saw it all, and were glad to 
see it. What better could they ask? Their 
lines had not been disordered by artillery or 



WATERLOO 113 

by infantry; what had they to fear from cav- 
ah-y? Nothing. They sprang up, formed 
squares and waited. The English gunners, 
whose batteries were in front, were ordered 
to reserve their fire till the last moment, and 
then to take shelter within the squares. 

As the French advanced, they were ex- 
posed to the full fury of the English batteries. 
The slope up which the cavalry rode is not 
steep, but the tall grain and the deep mud 
made it extremely difficult. 

Yet this magnificent body of horse, in spite 
of dreadful losses, drove the gunners from 
the batteries and took the guns ! 

But they had nothing to spike them with, 
they could not drag them away, they did not 
even break the cannon sponges. 

Therefore when they found that the Eng- 
lish infantry was not in disorder, but in 
squares upon whose walls of steel no impres- 
sion could be made; when they fell into con- 
fusion because of their own numbers crowded 
in so small a space, when Uxbridge's five 
thousand fresh horses were hurled upon the 
jaded French, and they fell back before the 
shock, the English gunners had but to run 
back to their guns and renew the murderous 
cannonade. 
8 



114 WATERLOO 

Yet no sooner had the wonderful soldiers 
of Milhaud and Lefebre-Desnoette reached 
the bottom of the valley than they charged up 
the muddy slopes again. Once more they 
drove in the cannoneers: once more they 
carried the heights, and fell upon the English 
squares. At this moment some of the Eng- 
lish officers believed that the battle was lost. 
But Napoleon watched the cavalry charge 
with uneasiness and called It "premature." 
Soult declared that "Ney Is compromising us 
as he did at Jena." 

The Emperor said, "This has taken place 
an hour too soon, but we must stand by what 
Is already done." Then he sent to Kellerman 
and Guyot an order to charge. This car- 
ried into action the remaining cavalry. It 
was now after five o'clock. 

In a space which offered room for the de- 
ployment of only one thousand, eight or nine 
thousand French cavalry went to fight un- 
broken Infantry ! 

A storm of cannon balls broke upon these 
dense masses, and the slaughter was terrific, 
but nothing stopped the French. Again they 
swept past the guns, again they assaulted the 
squares, time and again and again — while an 
enfilading fire emptied saddles by the hundred 



WATERLOO 115 

at every volley. Some of the squares were 
broken, an English flag was captured, the 
German Legion lost its colors, the French 
horse rode through the English line, to be de- 
stroyed by the batteries in reserve. Welling- 
ton had taken refuge within a square, but he 
now came out and ordered a charge of his 
cavalry. For the third time the French were 
driven off the plateau. 

Yet Ney, losing his head completely, led 
another cavalry charge ! Again ran the gun- 
ners away from the batteries, and again the 
cavalry broke on the squares. In fact, the 
wounded and dead were piled so high in front 
of the squares that each had a hideous breast- 
work before It which made It almost impossi- 
ble for the French to reach the English. 

Inasmuch as the Emperor had decided to 
support Ney In his cavalry charges. It seems 
strange that neither he nor Ney used the In- 
fantry. 

The 6,000 men of the Bachelu and Foy 
division were close by, watching the cavalry 
charges and eager to support them. As Ney 
was personally leading the cavalry. It Is easy 
to understand how he came to forget every- 
thing else ; but the Emperor's failure to send 
In this Infantry Is not readily understood. 



ii6 WATERLOO 

Only after the fourth charge of the cavalry 
had been repulsed, did Ney call in the in- 
fantry. But he was too late; the English 
batteries tore this closely packed body of men 
to shreds, and in a few minutes 1,500 had 
fallen and the column was in retreat. 

It was now six o'clock. La Haye-Sainte 
was at length taken, with great loss of life on 
both sides. From this point of vantage Ney 
assailed the English lines. The sand pit was 
again abandoned by the enemy, and Ney used 
this and a mound near La Haye-Sainte to 
pour a destructive fire upon the center of Wel- 
lington's line. The French infantry charged, 
drove the English, captured a flag, and there 
was now a gap in the very center of the Eng- 
lish line. Wellington was in a critical con- 
dition, and had the Old Guard charged then, 
neither Bliicher nor night might have come 
in time. 

Ney saw the opportunity and sent to the 
Emperor for a few infantry to complete the 
work. "Troops?" exclaimed Napoleon to 
the officer who brought Ney's message. 
"Where do you expect me to get them? Do 
you expect me to make them?" 

At the same moment, one of Wellington's 
lieutenants sent for reinforcements. "There 



WATERLOO 117 

are none," he said. Suppose that at this 
moment Napoleon could have hurled on the 
English line the 16,000 men who were hold- 
ing back the Prussians ! 

Yet the fact is that the Emperor had in 
hand fourteen battalions which had not been 
engaged, and what amazes the civilian is that, 
after refusing to take advantage of the im- 
pression Ney had made upon the enemy's line, 
Napoleon organized another general advance 
against Mont-Saint-Jean an hour later. 

Ever since two o'clock the Prussians had 
been operating on the French right wing. 
Billow's corps was having a bloody struggle 
with Lobau and the Young Guard. Time 
and again the Prussians were thrown back; 
time and again they returned to the attack. 
At the instant when Ney was demanding more 
troops, Lobau's corps was in retreat and the 
Young Guard was driven out of Plancenoit. 
Napoleon's own position on La Belle Alliance 
was threatened. To prevent the Prussians 
from coming upon his rear, the Emperor sent 
in eleven battalions of the Old Guard which, 
with fixed bayonets and without firing a shot, 
drove the Prussians out of Plancenoit and 
chased them six hundred yards. 



ii8 WATERLOO 

It was now after seven o'clock. There 
were still two hours of daylight. In the dis- 
tance were heard the guns of Grouchy; the 
sound seemed to draw nearer. The Emperor, 
counting too much on Grouchy always, be- 
lieved that at last his tardy lieutenant was en- 
gaged with the bulk of the Prussian army, 
and that he himself would have to deal with 
the corps of Biilow only. 

The Emperor swept the field of battle with 
his glass. On the right, Durutte's division 
held Papelotte and La Haye and was advanc- 
ing up the slope toward the English line. On 
the left, Jerome had stormed the burning 
chateau of Hougoumont, and the Lancers 
had crossed the Nivelles road. In the center, 
and above La Haye-Sainte, the French were 
driving the enemy along the Ohain road. 
The valley was crowded with the wrecks of 
broken French regiments. 

Placing himself at the head of nine batta- 
lions of the Old Guard, Napoleon led it down 
into the valley, spoke to his men briefly, and 
launched them against the enemy. It was 
too late. A deserter had given Wellington full 
notice of the preparations for the attack and 
he had thrown reinforcements into the weak 
portions of his line. The arrival of Zeiten's 



WATERLOO 119 

Prussians relieved the flanking squadrons of 
Vivian and Vandeleur, and Wellington now 
had 2,600 fresh horsemen to throw into the 
fight. 

At full gallop, the Prussian Commissioner 
to the Allies, Muffling, rode to Zeiten, ex- 
claiming, "The battle is lost if you do not go 
to the Duke's rescue." 

On came the Prussians, striking the French 
flank from Smohain, and in spite of all the 
personal exertions of the Emperor, a panic 
spread throughout that part of his army. 

Couriers had been sent all along the line 
to tell the French that Grouchy was ap- 
proaching. Yet the battle on the right where 
Lobau and the Young Guard were struggling 
to keep Billow back must have been known 
to thousands of the troops. Then, when 
they actually saw the Prussians taking them 
in flank, all their fears of treachery were in- 
tensified and they were filled with terror. 

But the Emperor had raised his arm to 
strike the enemy one final blow and he could 
not stay his hand. Even had he tried to re- 
call Ney, D'Erlon, Reille, it is doubtful 
whether the situation would have been im- 
proved. There was so much confusion, so 



120 WATERLOO 

many shattered commands, that an orderly 
retreat had become impossible. 

Encouraged by the report that Grouchy 
had come, the charging columns shouted 
^'Vwe VEmpereur!'' and passed on. 

Freeing himself from the fifth horse which 
had been shot under him that day, the daunt- 
less Ney went forward on foot, sword in 
hand. Losing terribly at every step, the 
French advanced up the slope. They took 
some batteries, they almost gained the Crest; 
but suddenly Maitland's Guards, 2,000 
strong, sprang up out of the wheat where they 
had been lying concealed, and poured a deadly 
volley into the French. Why was there no 
officer with presence of mind enough to cry 
then, ^'Give them the bayonef'f That was 
the one hope of the French. Instead of do- 
ing this, the officers tried to place the men in 
line so as to exchange volleys with the enemy. 
Fatal mistake. Wellington, noting the con- 
fusion and the hesitation, took advantage of 
it like a good soldier. 

"Up, Guards, and at 'em !" cried the Duke. 

"Forward, boys, now is your time!" cried 
Colonel Saltoun. 

The French, fighting frantically, were beat- 
en back to the orchard of Hougoumont. 



WATERLOO 121 

Here a fresh battalion (4th Chasseurs) 
came to the rehef of the retreating French, 
and the Enghsh returned rapidly to their own 
lines. 

Once more the Old Guard moves up the 
muddy slope, under the tremendous cannon- 
ade of the English guns. As they cross the 
Ohain road, an Enghsh brigade opens four 
lines of fire upon their flank; Maitland's 
Guards and Halkett's brigade oppose them 
in front; and a Hanoverian brigade, coming 
from the hedges of Hougoumont, fire upon 
them from the rear. The finishing blow is 
Colborn's charge with fixed bayonets. 

"The guard gives way!" rings over the 
battlefield — a wail of despair, of terror. 

"Treachery!" is the cry throughout the 
field. 

Now is the time to make an end of this 
panic-stricken army, and Wellington, spurring 
to the crest, waves his hat — the signal for an 
advance all along the line. 

As night closes in, the English army, 
40,000 strong, rush down the bloody, corpse- 
strewn slope, trampling the wounded and the 
dead, crying, "No Quarter!" 

The drum, the bugle, the bagpipe quicken 
the march of the English and the flight of the 



122 WATERLOO 

French. Making no stand at La Haye- 
Sainte, none at Hougoumont, none anywhere, 
the French army, already honeycombed with 
suspicion, dissolves in terror. Never had so 
strong a war-weapon shown itself so brittle. 

Napoleon was at La Haye-Sainte, forming 
another column of attack which he meant to 
lead in person, when he looked up and saw 
the Old Guard falter and stop. 

"They are confused. All is lost I" Hop- 
ing to stem the tide of the English advance 
and to establish rallying points for his flying 
troops, he formed four squares from a column 
of the Old Guard which had not been engag- 
ed. These he posted above La Haye-Sainte. 
As the English horsemen came on, they 
dashed in vain against these walls of steel 
and fire. But nothing so frail as four squares 
could arrest the advance of 40,000 men. 
The English cavalry poured through the gaps 
which separated the squares and continued 
their headlong pursuit of the terrified French. 

When the English infantry came up and 
raked the squares with musketry; when the 
English batteries began to hail grapeshot up- 
on them, the Emperor gave the order to aban- 
don the position. Attended by a small es- 



WATERLOO 123 

cort he galloped to the height of La Belle 
Alliance. 

The three squares fell back, slowly, stead- 
ily, surrounded on all sides by the enemy. 
With the regularity of the paradeground 
these matchless soldiers of the Old Guard 
halted to fire, to reform their ranks, and then 
move on again. 

"Fugitives from the battlefield looked back 
from the distance and marked the progress of 
the retreat by the regular flash of these guns." 
On that black valley of death and vast mis- 
fortune it was the repeated flashes of light- 
ning irradiating a stormcloud. 

tilled with admiration and sympathy, let 
us hope, an English officer cried out, "Sur- 
render!" 

And Cambronne shot out the word which 
Victor Hugo indecently glorified, but which 
with convincing emphasis spurned the very 
thought of surrender. The squares, unbrok- 
en, reached the summit of La Belle Alliance, 
where Cambronne fell, apparently dead, from 
a ball which struck him in the face. 

It was here that the Prussians, who had at 
last broken in on the right, bore down on the 
squares. Assailed by overwhelming odds — 



124 WATERLOO 

Infantry, artillery, cavalry — they were de- 
stroyed. 

Several hundred yards back there were 
two battalions of the Old Guard, formed in 
squares. Within one of these squares was 
the Emperor. Planting a battery of 12- 
pounders, he made a final effort to check the 
pursuit and to rally his troops. The Guard's 
call to arms was sounded, but the fugitives 
continued to pour by and none rallied. The 
battery exhausted its ammunition and the gun- 
ners, refusing to fly, were cut down by the 
English hussars. 

Upon the squares themselves the enemy 
could make no impression until overpower- 
ing masses of Prussian and English infantry 
came up. Then the Emperor ordered a re- 
treat. In good order these veterans marched 
off the field, stopping from time to time to 
fire a volley upon their pursuers. 

At the farm of Le Caillou the battalion 
formed in column, and on its flank slowly 
rode the Emperor, reeling with fatigue, so 
that he had to be supported in the saddle. 
His bridle reins were loose upon his horse's 
neck. 



CHAPTER IX 

As the moon came out that night, her cold 
face was hateful to the fleeing French, for it 
lit the roads for the merciless pursuers. 

The exhausted English had halted at La 
Belle Alliance. 

The Prussians came thundering on, and 
the two victors, Wellington and Bliicher, em- 
braced. Each called the other the winner of 
the day. Justly so — for each was the win- 
ner. To success both had been necessary. 

The Prussians had made a most fatiguing 
march in the morning, and had fought with 
desperation for many hours, but they alone 
had strength left for the pursuit. Welling- 
ton's troops fell down among the dying and 
the dead, to rest and sleep. But not until 
they had cheered the Prussians passing by. 
"Hip, hip, hurrah!" shout the English, while 
the bands play. 

The Prussians go by, singing Luther's 
hymn, "Now praise we all our God." 

And then these devout Christians hot-foot 
upon the track of other Christians, hurry on 
to a moonlight hunt — vast, terrible, murder- 



126 WATERLOO 

ous. These Prussians remember the pursuit 
after Jena; yes, and the pursuit after Aus- 
terlitz; yes, and the long years of French 
military occupation of the Fatherland. And 
now it is their turn. 

"As long as man and horse can go — push 
the pursuit!" cried Bliicher. 

Not a great many Prussians are needed. 
A few cannon to make a noise, a few bugles 
to sound the charge, a few drums to send 
terror ahead — these, with about 4,500 
troops, will be quite sufficient to chase Napo- 
leon's army like a flock of sheep. 

Forty thousand Frenchmen, unwounded, as 
brave a lot of men as ever stepped into line, 
■are now so crushed by unexpected disaster, so 
filled with the terror of sheer panic, that no 
human power can check their stampede. 

Ney has tried it, vainly. Napoleon has 
tried it, vainly. They abandon the artillery, 
they throw away their guns, they cast off their 
accouterments, intent only on running for 
dear life. They cut through the fields, they 
fight for passage on the road, they murder 
one another in their frantic efforts to get on. 

The Prussians chase them, cut them down, 
ride over them — the roads, the fields, the 
woods are strewn with slaughtered French- 



TVATERLOO 127 

men. If any stand Is made and a few of the 
nrmer rally, the first blare of Prussian trump- 
ets sets them running again. The 4,500 
Prussians dwindle, as the chase lengthens, un- 
til scarcely a thousand pursue. But the 
French have lost their senses. The mere 
blare of a Prussian bugle throws them into 
agonies of fright. One drummer-boy, gal- 
loping on horseback, a dozen cavalrymen to 
yell the Prussian "Hourra !" are enough to 
keep the stampede going. 

"No quarter!" cry the pursuers. Yet af- 
ter Ligny Napoleon had gone, in person, to 
take care of the Prussian wounded, and had 
threatened the Belgian peasants with the ter- 
rors of hell if they did not succor these suf- 
ferers. "God bids us love our enemies," said 
the Emperor to these peasants. "Take care 
of the wounded, or God will make you burn." 
But the English had cried "No quarter!" as 
they charged down from Mont-Saint-Jean, 
and now the Prussians are repeating the cry 
and slaughtering, with indiscriminate fury, 
those who surrender, those who are wounded 
and those who are overtaken. 

So mad is the panic of the French that at 
Gemappe, where the little river Dyle is only 
about fifteen feet wide and three feet deep. 



128 WATERLOO 

ttley have a frightful crush at the narrow 
bridge and never once think of wading across. 

Here, once more Napoleon vainly endeav- 
ors to stop the rout. The Prussians appear, 
beat the drum, blow the trumpets, fire can- 
non, and the thousands of Frenchmen fight 
madly with each other for the privilege 
of running away. They slash each other 
with their swords, stab each other with their 
bayonets, and even shoot each other down. 

To appreciate the state of mind of this 
fleeing army it is necessary that one should 
have a good idea of what happens to the 
crowd in a packed theater when the red 
tongues of the flames are seen in the hangings 
and the cry of ^^ Fir el FireF^ smites the start- 
led ear. The horrible scene which invariably 
follows is the outcome of exactly the uncon- 
trollable, unreasoning terror which made the 
flight from Napoleon's last battlefield such a 
disgrace to human nature. 

The moon which held a light for the pur- 
suit silvered also the slopes where the great 
battle had been fought, shone upon the un- 
buried corpses that still lay at Ligny and 
Quatre Bras, shone upon 25,000 Frenchmen, 
6,000 Prussians, and 10,000 of the English 



WATERLOO 129 

army, who lay on the field of Waterloo ; shone 
also upon other thousands who lay dead or 
dying on the futile battle-ground of Wavre. 
Within three days and within the narrow 
radius of a few miles more than 70,000 men 
had been shot down — for what? 

For what? To force upon the French a 
King and a system which they detested, and 
to prevent the spread of democratic principles 
to other countries where kings and aristoc- 
racies were In power. 

Creasy numbers Waterloo among the 
Twelve Decisive Battles of the World, but 
it does not deserve the rank. It did not give 
democratic principles anything more than a 
temporary set-back. It did not permanently 
restore the Bourbons. It did not even keep 
the Bonaparte heir off the throne. Much 
less did it settle the principle that one nation 
may dictate to another its form of govern- 
ment. 

In his old age, Wellington was asked to 
write his Memoirs. "No," he answered. 
"It wouldn't do. If I were to tell what I 
know, the people would tear me to pieces." 

I think I understand. If the ruling oli- 
garchs of England, — Eldon, Castlereagh, 
9 



I30 WATERLOO 

Pitt, Canning, Liverpool, Bathurst, — had 
revealed the inner secrets of the Tory admin- 
istration, the last one of them would have 
been torn to pieces — deservedly. 

The man-hunt rolls off toward the Sambre, 
the drum dies away in the distance, the horror 
of the retreat goes farther and farther away, 
— while the moon looks down upon the Eng- 
lish army, asleep on La Belle Alliance, upon 
the blood-stained valleys and slopes that lead 
to Mont-Saint-Jean, upon the smouldering 
ruins of Hougoumont, of La Haye-Sainte, of 
Papelotte, of Plancenoit. There are dead men 
everywhere. Everywhere are dying men, 
dismounted cannons, broken swords, aban- 
doned guns and knapsacks, dead horses, and 
mangled horses that scream as they struggle 
with pain and death, wounded men who moan 
and groan and curse their fate. 

A mile wide and two miles long, this strip 
of hell writhes beneath the unpitying stars; 
and perhaps the most awful sound that shocks 
the ear and the soul is that choked yell of ter- 
ror and agony of the officer who is being 
clubbed to death with a musket by the night 
prowler who wants the officer'§ watch, deco- 
ratiorivS and money. 



WATERLOO 131 

Enter the ground of the Chateau of Hou- 
goumont, pass the shattered buildings and go 
into the flower garden. Here was once the 
beauty of nature and the beauty of art, com- 
bined. This morning, when the sun broke 
through the mists, these formal walks were 
bordered by the bloom of flowers; these 
balustraded terraces were fragrant with the 
Incense of the orange and the myrtle. The 
birds were singing in the garden overhead, 
along these quiet covered walks in the old 
Flemish garden, vine clad with honey-suckle 
and jessamine, where many a word of love 
had been spoken as lovers wandered here in 
years long past. 

And now It Is one of the frightful spots 
of the world, reeking with blood, cumbered 
with dead and dying men, torn by shells, gut- 
ted by fire. The well is ever so deep and ever 
so large, but is never so deep nor so large as 
to hold all the dead and the dying. To- 
morrow it will be filled. The dauntless de- 
fenders and the fearless assailants will em- 
brace In the harmony of a common grave. 
And for many and many a year the peasant 
at his fireside at night will tell, in hushed 
tones, of the sounds — the groans, the faint 



132 WATERLOO 

calls for help — which are said to have been 
heard coming from the well, nights after its 
hasty filling in. 

Few partisans of Napoleon now contend 
that he was free from serious fault in this, 
his last campaign. 

First of all, he should have made his appeal 
to the people, put himself once more at their 
head as the hero of the French Revolution, 
remained in France, and nationalized the 
war. 

Again, he should not have placed two such 
generals as Vandamme and Gerard under 
Grouchy. 

He showed no vigor in following up his 
victory at Ligny, and made a capital error in 
not breaking up the retreating foe with caval- 
ry charges. 

He lost a great opportunity at Quatre 
Bras. 

On the night of the 17th he should have 
sent definite orders to Grouchy, and should 
have hearkened to Soult when he was urged 
by that thorough soldier to call in at least a 
portion of Grouchy's force. 

He took the reports of Haxo and Ney, and 



WATERLOO 133 

based the battle upon their erroneous reports. 
The Napoleon of earlier years would have 
gone to see for himself. 

He did not have a good view of the field 
and consequently missed detailed movements 
of immense importance. 

He treated with too much scorn the opinion 
of Soult and Reille (who had tested the Eng- 
lish soldier in Spain), when they warned him 
that the English, properly posted and proper- 
ly handled — as Wellington could handle them 
— were invincible. 

He made the attack without maneuvering, 
in just the bare-breasted, full-face way that 
best lent itself to bloody repulse. 

The premature cavalry movement which 
contributed most to the final disaster was un- 
der full headway, — too far advanced to be 
stopped, — before he knew that it was con- 
templated. 

In holding off the Prussians, the Emperor 
displayed his genius, directing every move- 
ment himself. On the field of Waterloo, he 
left too much to Ney and Jerome. Had he 
taken Ney out of the fight at the time that he 
recalled Jerome, the issue might have been 
different. 

The last grand charge should not have been 



134 WATERLOO 

made at all. He should have stopped, as 
Lee did at Gettysburg, in time to save his 
army, for by this time he knew that Grouchy 
would not come. To stake so much on one 
last desperate throw was the act of a man 
who was no longer what he had been at As- 
pern and Essling when he withdrew into the 
Island of Lobau. 

When the Emperor was giving the order 
for the last great charge. General Haxo 
would have remonstrated. "But, Sire — " he 
began. Napoleon flapped his glove lightly 
across Haxo's face and said, "Hold your 
tongue, my friend. There is Grouchy who 
will give us other news." He had mistaken 
Billow's cannonade for Grouchy's. 

One can understand what was passing in 
his mind when he said to Gourgaud, a few 
weeks later, "Ah, if it were to be done over 
again!" 

On Wellington's side the management was 
superb. It was practically faultless. He 
made the most of every advantage, and made 
the most of the errors of his enemy. 

With this exception: He left 18,000 of 
his men at Hal, four or five miles away, pro- 
tecting a road which he feared the French 
might take. But with Napoleon facing him. 



WATERLOO 135 

here at Mont-Saint-Jean, the 18,000 men 
were no longer needed at Hal ; and no one has 
ever been able to explain why Wellington did 
not call them in during the early morning of 
the 1 8 th. 

In other books than this you will read of 
how the wreck of Napoleon, the man, and the 
wreck of Napoleon, the Emperor, found their 
way to Paris; how the well-meaning but 
weak-headed La Fayette, dreaming of an im- 
possible Republic, worked in reality for the 
Bourbon restoration in working against Na- 
poleon; how the Chambers, honeycombed by 
the intrigues of Fouche, demanded the second 
abdication; how the wreck of Napoleon 
floated aimlessly down the current of misfor- 
tune; how he signed away his throne; how 
the masses thronged about his palace, wildly 
clamoring for him to put himself at the head 
of a national uprising; how he sends his 
empty coach and six through the mob, and 
makes off by the back way in a cab ; how he 
stops at Malmaison, weeps for his lost Jose- 
phine, listens to all kinds of counsel, takes 
none, and has no plan; how the soldiers, 
marching past in straggling detachments, 
cheer him with the same old enthusiasm, and 



136 WATERLOO 

how he calmly remarks, "They had better 
have stood and fought at Waterloo." 

Napoleon was no longer the volcanic man 
of action, of connected Ideas, of sustained 
exertion, of Inflexible purpose. The Water- 
loo campaign had been a sputtering of the 
candle In the socket — a brief eruption of a 
Vesuvius that made Europe quiver; and then 
all was over. 

From Malmalson he Is ordered off by 
Fouche, and he meekly obeys. At Rochefort 
he dawdles, doubts, delays, and does nothing. 
Logically, he becomes a prisoner to those by 
whom he has been beaten. 

To St. Helena, and a few years of torture ; 
to hopeless captivity and the bitter Inbrooding 
that eat the heart out; to the depths of hu- 
miliation and the canker of Impotent rage; 
to weary days of depression and dreary nights 
of pain; to a long agony of vain regrets, of 
wrath against fate, of soul-racking memor- 
ies — to these go Napoleon Bonaparte, the 
greatest man ever born of woman. 

At last, the reprieve comes. At last there 
comes the day when the little man can no 
longer torture the big one. Sir Hudson Lowe 
may at length rest easy — the sweat of the 
final pain gathers on his captive's brow. 



WATERLOO 137 

English sentinels may slacken their vigilance 
now — the death rattle is in the prisoner's 
throat. 

The storm comes up from out the wrathful 
sea, and the terrible anger of the tempest 
beats upon the tropical rock. The thunder, 
peal on peal, volleys over the crags, and the 
glare of the lightning lights up the track of 
devastation. Within the renovated cow- 
house, and within a room which will soon be 
used again as a cow-stall, is stretched the 
dying warrior. 

What was it that the storm said to the un- 
conscious soldier? By what mysterious law, 
yet to be made plain, does the sub-conscious- 
ness move and speak when deep sleep or the 
delirium of disease has paralyzed the normal 
consciousness of man? We do not know. 
In poetry, the sub-conscious produces the 
weird "Kubla Khan"; in music it notates 
"The Devil's Sonata." It is the sub-con- 
scious which often gives warning of evil to 
come; it is the sub-conscious that sometimes 
tells us the right road when all is doubt. 

As the thunder volleyed over Longwood, 
and the roar of the storm held on, the dying 
Captain was strangely affected. Just such 



138 WATERLOO 

thunder had rolled over his head that Satur- 
day night and Sunday morning, when he went 
the rounds of his outposts in the drenching 
rain — which may have been the main cause 
of his loss of Waterloo. He and the faithful 
Bertrand had made those night-rounds alone, 
and Napoleon, as he stopped to listen to the 
thunder, muttered, "We agree." 

It must have been that in his delirium he 
fancied he was again on the front line, listen- 
ing to the storm which preceded his last bat- 
tle. 

"The Army ! The head of the Army !" he 
muttered. "Desaix! Bessieres! Hasten 
the attack ! Press on ! The enemy gives 
way — they are ours !" 

With a convulsive start he sprang up, out 
of the bed, and got upon his feet. Monthol- 
on seized him, but he bore the Count to the 
floor. Others rushed in; he was already 
exhausted, and they put him back in bed. 
Afterward he lay still, and the boat drifted 
on, quietly on, toward the bar. 

The storm had passed away, and the Em- 
peror, lying on his back, with one hand out 
of the bed, fixed his eyes "as though in deep 
meditation." 

Those about the bed thought they heard 



WATERLOO 139 

him say, "France! Josephine!" Then he 
spoke no more. 

A light foam gathered on the parted lips. 
There was peace on his face — for the pain 
had done what it came to do. 

As the clear sun dipped beneath the distant 
rim of the sea, Napoleon died. 

It was May 5th, 1821. 

In Hillaire Belloc's magnificent study of 
Danton, the author makes reference to a leg- 
end which is said to be current among the 
peasants of Russia. 

It is a story of "a certain somber, mounted 
figure, unreal, only an outline and a cloud, 
that passed away to Asia, to the East and 
North. They saw him move along their 
snows through the long, mysterious twilight 
of the Northern autumn, in silence, with the 
head bent and the reins in the left hand, loose, 
following some enduring purpose, reaching to- 
ward an ancient solitude and repose. They 
say that it was Napoleon. After him, there 
trailed for days the shadows of the soldiery, 
vague mists bearing faintly the forms of com- 
panies of men. It was as though the cannon- 
smoke of Waterloo, borne on the light west 
wind of that June day, had received the spirits 



I40 WATERLOO 

of twenty years of combat, and had drifted 
farther and farther during the fall of the year 
over the endless plains. 

"But there was no voice and no order. 
The terrible tramp of the Guard and the 
sound that Heine loved, the dance of the 
French drums, was extinguished; there was 
no echo of their songs, for the army was of 
ghosts and was defeated. They passed in the 
silence which we can never pierce, and some- 
where remote from men they sleep in bivouac 
round the most splendid of human swords." 



A SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER 
BLUCHER 

''Captain Bliicher has full permission to 
resign, and to go to the devil, if he likes." 

Thus endorsed by Frederick the Great, 
Captain Bliicher's written request for leave 
to retire from the Prussian Army went into 

effect. 

Yet this headstrong, boisterous, hard- 
drinking, hard-riding, hard-fighting, indefati- 
gable Bliicher became one of the most thor- 
ough and effective soldiers that ever led an 
army to battle. He possessed some of those 
very qualities which made Washington, 
Cromwell, and Frederick so great. He was 
tireless, he was iron-willed, he was true-heart- 
ed, he was fearless, he was not to^ be dis- 
couraged, and he never could be whipped so 
badly that he did not come back to fight again, 
harder than ever. 

Something of a national hero, something of 
a typical German soldier, something of an 
ideal patriot, he was something of a ruthless 
Goth. He had gone to England after the 



142 WATERLOO 

Campaign of Paris, In 1814, and rode con- 
spicuously In the great procession through 
London. As he looked upon the wealth dis- 
played on every side, he growled, "What a 
town to sack." Yet he was a devoted hus- 
band, a most loyal subject; a generous, faith- 
ful, daring ally. • 

He had fought against the French a 
greater number of times than any other com- 
mander. He had been whipped oftener and 
harder than any other commander. He had 
been captured, and had grazed annihilation 
oftener than any other commander. 

After Jena, his king owed his escape from 
being made prisoner to a bold falsehood — to 
General Klein — that an armistice had been de- 
clared. At Bautzen he just did get out of the 
trap Napoleon laid for him, and he did It 
because Ney, In making the turning move- 
ment, stopped to do some fighting which gave 
the Prussian his warning. In 18 14 he just 
did miss being bagged time and again — but 
he missed It. And now In 18 15 his pluck, 
his dash, and his luck were to save him, as by 
fire, again and again. He was beloved by 
his troops. Wherever he sent them, he was 
ready to go himself. He shirked nothing, 
and was whole-hearted In everything. Like 



WATERLOO 143 

the Russian soldier, Skobeleff, he was sublime 
on the field of battle, and led his men in per- 
son. With a kindly word, ''Come, com- 
rades, follow me!" he could lead them into 
the jaws of hell. With a plea like this, 
"Comrades, I gave my word to be there; you 
woru't make me break it!" — he could inspire 
them to superhuman efforts, to drag the heavy 
guns through the mud, and thus reach his 
ally in time to save. 

Heading a cavalry charge at Ligny, his 
horse was shot under him, and the French 
passed over him twice — once in advancing, 
once in retreating — and the darkness was his 
friend each time. Dragged by one of his 
officers from under his horse, he was borne off 
the field bruised, almost unconscious. In two 
days, he is leading charges again. Too gen- 
erous to suspect an ally, he stands and fights 
at Ligny on Wellington's promise of support, 
and when the support doesn't come he still 
does not suspect his ally of calculating selfish- 
ness. His staff does. Hence it was that his 
staff opposed him when he wished to yield 
to Wellington's plea for help, on the night of 
the 17th. Long did Gneisenau resist 
Bliicher, contending that Wellington meant 
to leave them in the lurch again. But at 



144 WATERLOO 

length the chief of staff consented that the 
promise of relief be sent, and old Bliicher was 
happy. The promise was sent, and Welling- 
ton knew it would be kept ! Hence he fought 
at Waterloo, with the knowledge that his task 
consisted in holding out until the Prussians 
could arrive. 

The heroic struggle of Bliicher to make 
progress over the terrible roads, his enormous 
energy, his magnificent devotion to the com- 
mon cause, his unselfish renunciation of credit 
for the victory which was due to him more 
than to Wellington, raise him to the pinnacle 
of military glory. No student of this last 
campaign of Napoleon can fail to reach the 
conclusion that while Wellington was delay- 
ing at Brussels, sending out orders not suited 
to the condition of things at the front, and 
taking his supper at Lady Richmond's ball, 
it was Bliicher who was where he should have 
been, and doing what he should have done. 
But for the skilful retreat of Thielman, fol- 
lowed by the bold concentration at Ligny and 
the stubborn fight there, the French would 
have gone into Brussels without firing a shot. 

On the night of the i8th, Bliicher followed 
the pursuit as far as Genappe, where his 
strength gave out. He went into the inn to 



WATERLOO 145 

go to bed, but before undressing, wrote his 
wife: 

"On the 1 6th I was compelled to withdraw 
before superior forces, but on the i8th, in con- 
cert with my friend Wellington, I have an- 
nihilated the army of Napoleon." 

To a friend he wrote : 

"The finest of battles has been fought, the 
most brilliant of victories won. I think that 
Bonaparte's history is ended. I cannot write 
any more, for I am trembling in every limb. 
The strain was too great." 

Bliicher was seventy-three years old. 
Napoleon and Wellington were nearly the 
same age, both being born in 1769, and there- 
fore forty-seven years old. 

Bliicher was notoriously a hard drinker, 
and had been so all his life. Both Napoleon 
and Wellington were extremely sober men; 
yet Bliicher had shown more energy than the 
other two together. 

NEY 

A mournful interest must always attach to 

Ney. 



10 



146 WATERLOO 

As Napoleon said, his "Bravest of the 
Brave" was no longer the same man. First 
of all, in this campaign he was not handled 
right. The Emperor should have employed 
him sooner, or not at all: should have 
trusted him further, or not at all. The man- 
ner in which he was caught up at the last 
moment and cast into the activities of the 
campaign was most unwise. 

In spite of the bad behavior of Ney in 
1 8 14, the troops were glad to see him in their 
midst. Their nickname for him was "Red- 
head," and they called him this to each other 
as they saw him join the Emperor at Beau- 
mont. "All will go well now — Red-head 
is with us!" 

But Ney was not at himself. There is no 
other phrase that will do, — all of us know 
what it means. When the orator w^hom we 
know to be a heaven-born orator fails to move 
us, we say, "He is not at himself." When 
the brilliant writer is dull; when the expert 
mechanic is awkward; when the painter's 
brush misses the conception, when the sculp- 
tor's chisel cannot follow his thoughts, when 
the master musician makes discord, we have 
nothing better to say than "He is not at him- 
self." 



WATERLOO 147 

So It was with Marshal Ney. Advancing 
upon Quatre Bras, he stopped, afraid of go- 
ing too far. When had Ney been timid be- 
fore ? 

Realizing at length what was expected of 
him, he fought furiously to take the position 
which would have been his without a fight 
had he simply not stopped In sudden fear 
the evening before. Then, having been the 
Ney of old on the i6th, he became timid 
again on the morning of the 17th, and let 
Wellington draw off without any attempt to 
molest the retreat. Why no reports to the 
Emperor all that day of the i6th? Why 
none on the night of the i6th? Very near 
to the treason for which officers are shot, was 
this sullen silence. He was not at himself. 
Then at Waterloo, the Ney of old comes out 
again. He Is not only bold, but rash. He Is 
possessed of a devil of fight. He Is no longer 
a general: he is just a reckless brigadier. 
Headlong charges, blind rushes, frantic man- 
agement which Is calamitous mismanagement; 
premature sacrifice of cavalry, false forma- 
tion of columns of attack, then wild rage and 
despair, and prayers for death! The soldier 
never lived that fought harder and longer 
than Ney at Waterloo. As darkness closed 



148 WATERLOO 

down, and the torrents of retreat ran past 
him, this heroic and Ill-starred soldier, his 
face black with powder smoke, his uniform 
in tatters, the blood oozing from bruises, a 
broken sword in his hand, cried out, "Come 
and see how a Marshal of France dies!" 
But alas, the flood of disaster bore him away, 
and this leonine Frenchman was left to make 
a target for French muskets. All of Ney's 
horses had been killed under him, and he 
owed his life — a bad debt, as it turned out — 
to a faithful subaltern. 

The restored Bourbons were determined 
to put Ney to death. Instead of leaving his 
fate in the hands of his old companions in 
arms, as his lawyer wanted him to do, Ney 
foolishly gave preference to a trial by the 
civilians of the Chamber of Peers. This tri- 
bunal condemned him, and he was shot. So 
says History. 

But Tradition is persistent in claiming that 
the execution was a fake: that blank car- 
tridges were fired, that Ney fell unhurt, and 
that his body was spirited away, and that he 
was shipped off to America, and that he lived 
in North Carolina, a school-teacher, until he 
died a natural death. 



WATERLOO 149 

Many a time I have ridiculed this tradi- 
tion, and marshaled in convincing array the 
evidence against it. I must confess, however, 
that a statement in the book of Sir William 
Fraser, called "Wellington's Words," 
startled me. He expresses a doubt as to the 
genuineness of the execution of Marshal Ney, 
and Sir William, was close to Wellington. 
Indeed, the account which Sir WilHam gives 
of the alleged execution is somewhat sugges- 
tive of a mock execution. 

It was a beautiful morning, and the Gar- 
den of the Luxembourg was filled with child- 
ren, attended by their nurses, taking the 
morning air, amid the trees and birds and 
flowers. A closed carriage drove up to the 
gate and four men, leaving the carriage, en- 
tered the garden. One was Marshal Ney, 
the others an ofiicer and two sergeants. The 
officer placed Ney against the wall, called 
the picket guarding the gate, gave the word 
"Fire!" and Ney fell on his face. The body 
was immediately put into the carriage and 
driven off. The nurses and the children had 
not realized what was happening. Says Sir 
William Fraser (who had this account from 
Quentin Dick, an eye-witness), "I confess 



ISO WATERLOO 

to have got a lingering doubt whether Ney 
was shot to death." 

But Sir William himself supplies a bit of 
evidence which resettles my own conviction 
that Ney was shot to death. The second 
Duke of Wellington was invited by Queen 
Victoria to meet at Windsor Castle the Em- 
peror of the French. In the train of Louis 
Napoleon, the French Emperor, was the son 
of Marshal Ney. The Emperor said, "I 
must introduce two great names," leading 
the Duke of Wellington to the Prince of 
Moscowa. The Duke made a low bow : the 
Prince did not return it. He remembered 
the murder of his father, and knew that the 
first Duke of Wellington should have pre- 
vented it. In answer to the Emperor's 
whispered remonstrance, Ney's son firmly de- 
clared that he did not wish to make the ac- 
quaintance of Wellington's son. To my 
mind this is conclusive. Had Ney's life been 
saved by the first Duke of Wellington, as 
Sir William Eraser broadly hints, two things 
are certain : ( i ) Ney's son would have known 
it, and (2) Ney's family would have grate- 
fully honored Wellington's memory, instead 
of detesting it. 

No : the lion-like Ney did not teach school 



WATERLOO 151 

In North Carolina; he died a dog's death 
in the garden of the Luxembourg. A victim 
to the cold perfidy of Wellington, a bloody 
sacrifice to the vindictive ferocity of Bourbon 
royalism, the magnificent French soldier was 
shot to death by Frenchmen — shot like a 
dog, and fell on his battle-worn face dead, 
dead, while the song of birds was In the trees, 
and the Innocent laughter of children rang in 
his ears. Well did he say when they were 
reading his death-sentence. In which all of his 
high-sounding titles were being enumerated, 
"Just Michel Ney — soon to be a handful of 
dust." 

Full of error, yet full of virtue : pure gold 
at one crisis, mere dross at another; superbly 
great on some occasions, and pitiably weak 
on others; true as steel one day, unsubstan- 
tial as water the next; dangerous to the 
,enemy on some fields, fatally dangerous to 
Napoleon In the last campaign, the truth re- 
mains that this strenuous soldier had been 
fighting the battles of France all his life, had 
never failed her at any trial, had never joined 
her enemies, and must have died of heart- 
break as well as bullet-wound when he heard 
a French ofiicer give the word, and saw 



152 WATERLOO 

French soldiers raise their guns to shoot him 
down. 

Honor to the son of Ney who refused to 
take the hand of Wellington's son, although 
a Queen was the hostess, and an Emperor 
whispered a remonstrance ! 



SEP 23 WS 



